- DISCONTINUED -

Robin smiled a little at the girl. She seemed to be having a bad day. “Well,do you want to eat or something? It would be on me.” She tried to say as cheerfully as possible, hoping to lighten the mood. Being merry is always what she was good at. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

     Rhiannon would soon have all her hands full when the harvest season began. There would be no time for letting her mind wander, her parents often told her. The corn, however, could well do with another month of maturing as the last winter had ended late in spring and perhaps she should head for the stables after all, now that even the tavern as a place of refuge was unapproachable. 

He was not the most beautiful looking elf on show - covered in grime from weeks of without any way of washing, his hair matted with blood and dirt. His back was aching from the whip, but he held his head high, grey eyes narrowing angrily at his buyer. He would not submit himself like this, not to anyone.

     The Arkyrian untied the rope from the stone again and fastened it to her left arm. “You will come with me or I will come with you, either way works for me,” Elsabeta stated. Of course she was not a noblewoman. Who were they after all? Being imprisoned, blinded, sent into the desert… why would anyone ever chose a life like this? “Hah, I’m glad I’m not one of them. And like I said, you will see.”

“Can we get going now? I’m sure you don’t have all day.”

     Anxiously she started racing across the market square, watching various mounts as they came and went, hoping to find one that, at least, looked ownerless. Where had she dismounted? Elsabeta’s breath was heavy when she found herself once more before the white building, but not from her running. She would she cried after being so ignorant about her only companion. How far would she come if she could not even take care of her own mount?

“Has something happened?”

     “Nothing has happened,” she excused. “I got lost in one of the back streets.” Her lie, she thought, hardly concealed the truth. For a steppe child like Elsabeta had been, words did not come naturally. Horses, however, did. And she had lost one.

Young Islwyn had always had trouble with other people as she was so timid. Yet living by the Lake of Avalon gave her a sense of security as she always spoke with The Lady of the Lake. But not since she came to Ravenwood…she had nobody now save for Moonim

     “What? What?” Palia looked around herself, touching her pockets to guess what they contained. “What do you mean?” From one she pulled out a spruce cone and a handmade necklace. Was it that? “Tell me! What has your heart desired?” The trader swiftly put the two items back and took off her blue travel coat to search for other things she was carrying without knowing it. “What do you want from me?”

     “I do think I have to go now! Storm clouds on the sky, I don’t want to get wet. I hate getting wet. Everything’s so tight then. Not the cart, but the clothes.” Palia nodded again, slowly walking backwards to her cart.

He could, however, understand her. For so long, he had wished to return to his home, far across the Sea, but how could he? He was not brave enough to face the risk of punishment for his age old crimes. 

He was not the most beautiful looking elf on show - covered in grime from weeks of without any way of washing, his hair matted with blood and dirt. His back was aching from the whip, but he held his head high, grey eyes narrowing angrily at his buyer. He would not submit himself like this, not to anyone.

“Do you live here?”

     Every item of furniture, as long as Elsabeta could speak of furniture, the woman had either built herself of driftwood or bought from travelling merchants. The Arkyrian was very proud of it, even then when she spent considerably little time here but outside, gathering berries or catching fish. 

“What’s your name?”

     She stretched out her head when the rasping voice echoed in her pit. “Elsabeta, you may call me. Not Beta. Beta some call me. But you shall call me Elsabeta.” Or rather Master Elsabeta? She could not make up her mind. The young woman did not belong to the group of great slave traders but a commoner trying to find a life that would be worth living. Obtaining a slave was the first step towards her goal.

“You are not a noblewoman. I expected you to be - what use is a slave to you?”

     The Arkyrian untied the rope from the stone again and fastened it to her left arm. “You will come with me or I will come with you, either way works for me,” Elsabeta stated. Of course she was not a noblewoman. Who were they after all? Being imprisoned, blinded, sent into the desert… why would anyone ever chose a life like this? “Hah, I’m glad I’m not one of them. And like I said, you will see.”

     “Can I somehow help you?” She called out to the man, trying not to sound too reluctant. 

Of course spotting someone on a rock fishing meant there had to be food close right? He paused when addressed fingers flinching some before pursing his lips. “Do not suppose you have directions to the closest town… und where to get gute food?” He asked not one to eat swill to willingly.

      Elsabeta had to admit, she felt a little insecure with that person standing right next to her. She could hardly ignore him now. “I fear I can’t help you with whatever it is you need.” Drawing her attention back to the bespoke fishing rod she was steadily holding in both hands, she felt as though the string had made a move. When the woman pulled the rod a bit closer, she could see a young fish nibbling on the mulberry that was tied to the other end of the string. “You’re not getting away with that fruit and you know it,” she cynically mumbled, ready to drag the fish out of his realm once it took a larger bite of the mulberry.  

     The fish was still fumbling with the fruit, so Elsabeta patiently decided to observe him a little longer. The creature would have to swallow the fruit as a whole, then there was no escape into the endless sea any more.