Hola! I'm thinking of updating three times a week now guys... thanks to some prodding, I've got ten chapters built up! Which is also a good thing since its November and that means NaNoWriMo... which I'm already behind on. ;=;

sakuramcgarden: Couldn't agree with you more! I tend to fall for the quiet characters in books and games ;)

/Zen

PS - It's bloody snowing here.

Tharja frowned, shaking her long dark hair from her face in frustration. She stacked her tomes on her desk and walked away from it abruptly, shoving the tent flap aside. The bright afternoon light made her blink owlishly.

"Hey Tharja!"

She turned and saw Nowi, the energetic manakete, hurrying towards her. She had a big grin on her face. Tharja felt her stomach do an uncomfortable flip and grimaced.

"Oh," she said, "you."

"Of course it's me silly!" Nowi laughed. She clasped her hands behind her back and bounced on her toes. "I heard you almost drowned yesterday, are you okay?"

"I am clearly not drowned," Tharja replied dryly. She pulled her cloak closer about her in memory of the afternoon. And of Gregor's arm around her. She would not think about that. If she could just figure out how he was repelling her hexes she'd be able to make him pay for it. Like the dark sorcerer who'd sent the wyn-storm their way. She grinned. Sorcerer. Clearly an amateur. He wouldn't be casting anything for a long while.

"Oh yeah," Nowi said, tilting her head to one side, "I heard Gregor saved you. He's kind of good like that isn't he? I thought he was trying to capture me when I first met him, but turns out he was trying to save me! Can you believe that?"

Tharja raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Anyways," the manakete continued, "I just wanted to know if you'd done it yet. You know, about my mom and dad. Any luck with my toenail clippings?"

Tharja opened her mouth, paused. She could lie. Easily. She'd done it a million times, but instead of lying she said: "Yes."

"Soooo?" Nowi leaned forward, her big eyes peering up at the sorceress. "What's the story? Don't hold out on me? Spill those beans!"

She wants the truth? I can give her the truth, Tharja thought. After all, she owed the manakete nothing, had no reason to spare her. The girl was a dragon – she could take it. But that wasn't what came out of her mouth.

"Your mother and father are both... doing well," she lied. Her mouth twisted around the words. "They worry about you all the time and can't wait to see you again."

Nowi bounced, a grin bursting like sunlight across her face. A thousand years old? Hardly. "Oh that's great! So where are they? I have to go see them."

She looked so eager and so happy. Tharja shifted uncomfortably, folding her arms across her stomach and unable to meet the girl's eyes. She wasn't used to making people happy – especially not by lying. What should she say now? Cursing herself, she added: "They are far, far away, Nowi. Too far for you to ever reach them."

The girl laughed. "Pfft! Yeah, right," she said. "If they're beyond the oceans, I can fly to them. If they're in the deepest forest, I can walk to them. I'm kind of immortal, you know? I've got plenty of time."

Tharja did her best not to sigh, although she felt the way her shoulders sagged a little. She made herself meet Nowi's big violet eyes now and, taking a big breath, said: "Ten thousand years would not be enough. Just be content knowing they're well."

Now the manakete's expression changed. Confusion drew her thin brows together and the smile faded. "What... what are you telling me?"

Gods why did being kind have to be so hard? Tharja looked away again, unable to stand the vulnerability she saw in Nowi's gaze.

"Tharja... just tell me the truth. I'm a grown woman. I can take it."

Was she? The girl might be immortal and well over a thousand years old, but she was so young in so many ways. So naive. Tharja turned and said, without emotion: "I could not locate your parents which means..."

"That they've gone to a land so far away neither of us have ever heard of it?"

"Um..." Tharja paused. If only it were that easy. If only she didn't know better. "Well, yes, I suppose it could mean that..."

"Aw what a shame," Nowi sighed. Then she gave a smile that seemed a little too bright. "I suppose I won't be seeing them anytime soon then, huh? Well, thanks anyway!"

Tharja watched her hurry off, more of a run than a skip to her steps. "You're, uh, welcome..."

"Was that truth?"

She turned, surprised to find that anyone had been listening. But then again, who else would it be. Gregor stood there with his big arms crossed over his chest. He wore a sleeveless tunic and a soft expression as he searched her face. It had an odd effect in the contrast of the hard, weathered planes of his face. Not to mention the silver-handled broad sword at his hip.

"Was what the truth?" she asked, sweeping her cloak aside then resettling it over her shoulders. She kept her eyes off his face.

"What you told Nowi," he said. "That was truth?"

"Yes," Tharja snapped. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Mostly."

Gregor nodded as though he understood. "Her parents are not far away."

"No," she agreed, "they aren't. But somehow telling her that..."

"Gregor understands. Is sometimes better this way," he allowed in that gravelly voice of his. With a shrug of his big shoulders he let the rest of it fall away.

Tharja glared at him then. He'd been eavesdropping on her conversation, and this wasn't the first time. He'd heard the last conversation she'd had with Nowi too. How was it that the big oaf was always around? She was the only stalker in this camp.

"If you don't mind," she said, raising her chin, "I've other things to do than stand around." She started to return to her tent, but he stopped her with what he said next.

"Gregor is not wanting to be greedy," he told her, "but is wondering if maybe now evil girl will be ready to be speaking with dead ones?"

Tharja eyed him darkly, considering saying no just to see his reaction. What did he really want to talk to some dead person for? People were much too caught up in what had happened rather than what was happening – or what would happen.

"Yes," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Once I clean up the remnants of the spell for Nowi, I will be ready to cast yours." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Your soul had better be worth it."

His face split into a grin, a mischievous curl to his lips. "Oh, Gregor promise! Will be very much worth it." He let out a booming laugh, like he'd just told a great joke.

Shaking her head, Tharja swept back into her tent and let the flap fall down behind her. It was darker within, although still warm. She tied the thong around the bag of Nowi's nail clippings tightly before setting the bag in the travelling trunk she had along one edge. Within it were more curious bits she might have use for in the future. She shut the lid and sat down on it.

When had she started trying to help people instead of hexing them?