oooooo

It was too early for anyone to be awake. Frell was still in silent slumber, and I walked through with little hassle. I did stumble across a few drunken men passed out on the cobblestones, but they were snoring loudly, sleeping off their vice. I stopped to have breakfast near a river bank, resting a bit while watching the sunrise. I could see the royal family's castle, shining in the distance. In a few more hours, I would be out of Frell's borders. I opened my fairy book to reveal a map tracking my journey. If I continued north, I would be on my way to Ayortha. As I sat and nibbled slowly on my loaf, I planned my route.

Areida was in Ayortha. Her family owned an inn there. Would she still remember me? I didn't even know what the inn was called! Nevertheless, if I found myself in Ayortha, I would ask around. I was eager to see her, and talk to her. It had been a very long time since I'd had a real friend to talk to – besides Mandy.

Closing my book, I continued on with my journey. The more I walked, the farther I went from town, and the quieter and more desolate my surroundings became. . . it made me yearn for company. I hummed as I walked. I hummed every single song I knew, and when I finished, I began to make some up.

I did, however, after a few hours, succumb into silence. I had entered a woodland environment, following a beaten dirt road, and I watched all of the trees around me. I marveled at their changing colors and the way they were caressed by any slight breeze. I admired the way they were predisposed by nature to change clothes every so often; as if change was a necessity to survive. I also admired their carefree way of being. How tireless would life be, to be a mere leaf swaying along to the changing wind?

By the time the sun was beginning to set, I had talked to a man on a donkey, making his way to Frell from a business expedition. He told me the way to Ayortha, giving me landmarks that hadn't been distinguished in the map. He also gave me a warning: "Be sure to check yourself in someplace safe when night falls. A young beautiful maiden like you, traveling alone. . . well, anyone sensible would tell you it's trouble."

Luckily enough, by the time night had fallen completely over Kyrria, I had found an isolated barn occupied by a husband and wife. They were elderly and offered me a place to sleep in exchange for a little company. They told me about how their children had all married and left home, rarely visiting because they were so far away. By the time they retired to bed, I settled myself in their stable, making my bed on a soft stack of hay. When morning came, I joined them for breakfast, and as I was heading out of the barn, Mrs. Sniddle offered to lend me her donkey.

I refused her, remembering the grim end of the donkey the elves had once lent me.

"Take it," she ordered. "You remind me so much of my daughter. I couldn't bear it, knowing I had sent you out without a donkey."

And so as she commanded, I took the donkey. And after a million expressions of gratitude, I was on my way.

ooo

My second night went well, as my fairy book did well in aiding me with illustrations of which forests were ogre-populated, and I found alternate routes to get to my destination. They were longer, of course, and on rougher terrain – but anything was better than marching straight into a colony of blood-thirsty ogres. It was on the third night that I encountered trouble: bandits.

I was resting on a fallen log, taking sips of Tonic. I was only a little distance from the main road, but well disguised amongst the trees. I began to hear a noise – like hooves of horses and a distant voice. I drew myself nearer, petting the donkey – I had named him Elmer – in comfort. There, I saw quite a crowd: knights on horses with a carriage behind it. I knew it had to be someone of noble standing, until I saw the flag it displayed. Kyrria's flag. As it came nearer, I could make out the crest of the royal family encrusted on the side of the door. Suddenly my heart had taken up the entire expanse of my chest, pounding like a blacksmith's hammer, that I could barely breathe.

They were going to pass through here. Within just feet from me, Char would pass. If I had any bit of sense, I would have quickly hurried back to my resting spot and hidden away, as far as possible. But instead I waited with bated breath as they drew closer. They were quiet, scanning their surroundings as carefully as possible. I strained to see Char in the carriage, but instead I saw someone else inside. Alarmed, I tried to examine the guards – and, there, with only my remembrance of him, I could recognize his eyes. He was disguised as one of the knights.

My heart ached as they began to pass. I hardly noticed the way my eyes began to get hot and my vision blurred. Knowing he was in a distant place and loving him was an entirely different feeling than being yards away from him, loving him, yet knowing he should never see me. I knew it required a different kind of love, the ultimate act of selflessness, for me to stay hidden away and contented with the ability to just see him, watch him, with no acknowledgment.

Just then, as I was hiding behind the tree, watching the flickering lights of their torches, I felt something clamp against my mouth and something strong bind me from behind. I felt something warm against my ear.

"Don't scream," he said lowly.

I only managed to make an airless squeak before the curse burned my lungs. He waited until the royal carriage was a mile down, its lights reduced to tiny yellow stars in the distance. Finally, he released his hand from my mouth, and I let out gasps of air.

I turned and realized my hands were bound. I stumbled and nearly fell, but he caught me and steadied me. I heard him laugh.

"Lord, you're just a maiden, aren't you?" he said.

"A poor one, at that!" somebody yelled in the distance. I peered through the darkness and could see at least five figures rifling through my things. Another was with Elmer, who was struggling with the presence of these ominous strangers. "Although I did find an interesting fairy trinket."

My fairy book! Something cold and icy enveloped my heart.

"How much money did you find?"

"Nothing but a few KJs," he answered in reply. I could hear a frown in his voice. "Like I said, poor."

"Then leave it alone," the man in front of me said. "We don't steal from the poor." I exhaled, grateful at my luck, though confused. "And start a fire."

He led me to where the other figures had gathered. Within a few minutes, they had already started a fire, picking up fallen branches, with the impatient few breaking nearby tree limbs. As soon as the fire was up, I could see my captors. They were young, just lads, some just a few years older than me. They were dressed in regular folk garb, nothing like the black on black I had theatrically imagined bandits to dress in.

The one who had bound my hands was around my age, give a few years. I could see how young he was in his face and lithe, slender build. He had brown hair and a kind yet mischievous face.

"I am sorry about this," he said, gesturing to the rope around my hands. They cut against my wrists. "Formality, as you know. We'll untie you eventually, when we're sure the royal family is miles away."

"Bandits who don't steal from the poor?" I finally said, my voice hoarse. I thought about telling Char, or Mandy. They would fall over in shock!

"Bandits with principle and integrity, ma'am," one said, a ginger, tipping an invisible hat.

"Now that's a contradiction!"

"And what about you, a lass traveling alone?" he said. "A little stupid, don't you think?"

"Delicious, according to ogres."

A surprised silence followed. Then, suddenly, an explosion of laughter from all five of my captors.

"This lass is funny!" one of them said. "And I thought all maidens were preoccupied with things like frilly petticoats and wealthy suitors!"

"The rich ones, maybe," the brown-haired one said, a little solemnly. But his eyes were smiling at me. "I'm James."

"I'm Ella," I said, though I hesitated to tell him my real name. "Now will you untie me?"

He looked around at his comrades, all sitting around the fire. They had brought out some ale and bread. I was surprised they had left my rations – though few – untouched. "Oh, let her go," one of them said, with a full mouth. "She's got nowhere to run."

"Except towards ogres," another quipped.

He jokingly bowed to me. "As you wish."

And then he cut the ropes from my hands. I winced as I saw the angry burns on my skin, but soon found myself joining them. Of course, not wholly by choice – the moment I was free, James ordered me: "Join us."

I was wary, of course, and slowly settled myself on the fallen log. They were all chattering amongst themselves, laughing carefreely, as if holding "poor maidens" hostage was something they did every day.

"Don't be afraid," James said lowly to me, and suddenly I felt warm and comfortable. I began to see James and his group of bandits as inviting as a spring river. They offered me a roll and some ale, which I gladly took.

James introduced them to me.

"John, Fred, Sam, and Tom," he said. Each of them nodded, their faces full of crumbs. "This fair maiden is Ella."

"From where do you hail, fair maiden Ella?" Tom asked, a dirty blond with rips on the knees of his breeches.

"Frell," I answered. "And all of you?"

"Scattered," Sam said. He had black hair and equally dark eyes, but a dimple on his cheek made his disposition less dismal. "Though each of us couldn't tell you much about our birth places. We've spent too much time on the road for any real, genuine memory."

We talked until the fire died down. Despite my original bias of them – foul, unscrupulous bandits – I began to discover, the more they talked and laughed, that they were not your average league of bandits. For one: they were just boys. Secondly, they revealed to have a good, moral background. I asked them why they did not steal from the poor (as real bandits did not care, as long as there was something valuable for them), and James said,

"We steal from those privileged enough that however much we take from them, they are not completely ruined," he confessed, very seriously. "They will still live comfortable lives when they go home, and their trauma will just be a tale, never to be repeated again."

"As you can very well see, Ella of Frell," Tom said, speaking up, "we are not princes or noblemen. And we prescribe to the philosophy that all poor men and women are kin. That is why we don't steal from poor people. It would be like stealing from our mothers and fathers, our brothers and sisters." Then he paused. "If we stole from them, we could be stealing their future. Their ramshackle home, supper for their children."

I sat in thought for a moment. It seemed like we all did, as everybody became quiet, their eyes hazily focused on the fire. I was born of privilege and of nobility, living a comfortable life. Perhaps in accordance to how much I possessed (very little, thanks to my stepsisters), I would be considered poor. But I had never known how to live day to day, not knowing whether I would have food for tomorrow.

"I'm not poor," I suddenly confessed. "I own very little, yes – but I was born privileged. My father is a merchant, and my best friend was our cook, Mandy."

They all seemed very intrigued by this. "Are you sure? No privileged lass could have any reason to run away from a satisfactory life." They began to chortle.

James, however, was looking at me very closely. "I sense you have very many secrets, Ella of Frell," he whispered to me, as the rest of his friends moved on to another topic.

If I wasn't sure the fire was substantial, I could have sworn I felt myself blush.

ooo

We all fell asleep around the fire. When I woke up, the fire was gone and the sun was barely peeking through the mountains. I thought about whether I should make a run for it, but I hesitated as I looked around at the four boys sleeping around me, snoring loudly. I stopped in thought. Wait a minute. Four?

"You're awake," a voice said.

I jumped. I looked up to see James, smirking at me.

"I hope you're not planning on running away, just after you've made such accommodating friends?"

"Believe it or not, I am on a journey and I have a destination I must reach," I said firmly.

"Life, Ella," he said, adjusting his vest, "is a journey. Hasn't anybody ever told you that?" He offered me some water in a tin cup. "Drink it."

I obediently drank until the last drop was gone. I hastily wiped my chin.

"I'm intrigued by this journey," he said, sitting next to me. "Tell me about it."

Another order. I inwardly moaned. James, being so accustomed to being the leader of his group, was so used to giving orders that it seemed to be in his nature.

"I'm on my way to Ayortha," I said.

"Ayortha? What for?"

"To visit my friend, Areida."

"That's an awful long journey just to have a tete-a-tete with an old friend." He paused, as if thinking. "Why did you run away from Frell?"

I was glad he didn't order me to answer it. "I needed a change," was all I said.

"Change?" he scoffed. "If you wanted change, you could have gone to the market for a new dress. You could have had cake for dinner, or thrown a surprise party."

"I believe," I huffed, standing, "our definitions of change are completely different."

"That much is apparent," he remarked, hiding a smile. "But I can't quite figure you out. You are no ordinary runaway maiden from Frell."

I began to gather my things, careful to be quiet that the others didn't stir. I did feel a little warmed, though, when I saw Elmer had been fed a carrot. I wondered who had done it.

"There is something that is making you run," he insisted. "Something very dark in your formerly privileged life."

"We can't all be blessed to live our entire lives in sunshine," I told him, trying to untie Elmer from the tree.

"I know. All six of us here are living testaments to that," he said. "We are all children of dark times, Ella. It's not as exclusive a club as you might think."

My fingers fumbled as I struggled to untie the knot. Had James tied this? He was beginning to have the knack for impossible rope-tying.

He grabbed it from my hand, but did not attempt to undo it. "You should join us, Ella," he said seriously.

"Join you!" I exclaimed in a whisper, careful not to raise my voice. "A company of bandits! Why don't I just march to the town square and ask to be hung!" I shook away the proposition. "I have my own agenda, thanks."

He rolled his eyes. "We will accompany you to Ayortha. That's what I meant. Imagine you as a bandit!" Then he stopped. "Actually, it's not a bad picture."

"I don't trust you," I told him. I was determined to make this journey on my own.

"Why not? We untied you, we left your things alone, and I even fed your donkey!"

"Why are you so eager to follow me? Don't you have wealthy travelers to rob, and other maidens to keep hostage?" His persistence was really becoming quite irritating – and inconvenient.

He laughed. Behind him, Tom began to sleepily sit up.

"Perhaps we have some business in Ayortha ourselves."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Since when?"

"Since I decided, this morning." He smirked. "We're going with you, Ella. The road is much too treacherous for you to go alone. Imagine encountering bandits with even less scruples than us – or worse, ogres! It's settled," he said. "Now have some breakfast."