Chapter 34 A Budding Friendship

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Sleep barely touches me. Between the pain in my feet and the impatience gnawing at me for Eric to return, both do well to keep me awake. I cannot close my eyes. I cannot help but glance back at the door every now and then. My eyes linger each time, praying that door will open and Eric will walk in...it remains closed. My breath leaves me, my shoulders dropping. The Inn has fallen silent save for the candle on the table, it's flame sizzling softly as it slowly burns the wick. The wind has picked up outside, whistling and whooshing past the window. I tear my eyes from the door and look out the window. All there is to see is the black void of night outside.

A day, maybe two, Eric said. A day has already passed, so he must return by this coming day, or by the next night at the latest. He must. I pray he is resting now...but is he? Is he making his way back to me now? Or have they failed to pull off this heist? Perhaps Eric lost track of the noble—no, he is too skilled to lose his quarry's tracks. He has found this wicked noble by now, but God forbid Eric, Wessel, Locke and the dwarves have been captured—No, Eric is too competent and too stubborn to be captured. No one can take him prisoner unless he lets them. I know he said he is not Ursus. He claimed he is only a son of the bear god...but I've seen his inhuman strength. I've felt his unnaturally long life stirring in his heart. Then there's his handsome face and well-formed body. Could he be Ursus and he does not know it yet? Or could he be a vessel for Ursus?

I remember the heretics who preached what I thought to be such strange things then. Those who preached that there is more than one god were swiftly executed in agonizing ways. Drawing and quartering them, burning them at the stake, hanging them and disemboweling them while they hung—whatever it took to deter such beliefs from spreading, I suppose. I had put what these men and women said far from my mind, but now after knowing Eric...I recall one man who was hung and disemboweled for proclaiming that some gods walk among us as mortal men.

I was passing the day with William. Both of us were racing to the top of my favorite apple tree. I was so keen on seeing the clear blue sky and the sun lighting up the emerald leaves. I did not care if William won. I only wanted to reach the top. After all, this was the only time he did not lecture me on the dangers of climbing to the top of my favorite apple tree. William reached the top before me, him being slightly older and the stronger sex.

He sat himself on a sturdy branch, grinning down at me with pride and triumph. "Come on, slow poke Snow!" he called down to me.

I growled at him. He always liked to tease me with that name. Ironic really seeing as I was light on my feet. "I'm being careful!" I called up to him. I was not far behind him. I reached a strong branch just beneath his branch and sat down on it. He looked up at the shiny blood red apples and picked a plump one from the tree.

He leant forward to me, offering me the apple. "Princess," he said, smiling so sweetly that I found myself trusting him.

I returned his smile. "Thank you!" I reached for the apple, but just as my fingers brushed the apple's smooth skin, he snatched it from me! My smile turned to a scowl. "William!"

He only laughed and took a big bite out of the apple, its juices crunching and oozing in his mouth!

As he chewed the apple with a satisfied simper, unladylike words slipped out of me. "You ass!"

He stopped chewing and raised his brows at me. "Snow!"

"Hear me, O you with hardened hearts!" a man shouted suddenly. I distinctly remember how his voice resonated within the pavilion. William and I looked at the disturbance. A man wearing a tunic made of black animal hair was being dragged down the hall by two guards. He struggled against them, but he was not really fighting them. He only struggled to delay them, not to escape them.

"Hear me, O you with hardened hearts! There is a darkness coming to your land! It will consume your homes, your wives, your daughters! It will claim the lives of your fathers, your sons! One of our maker's gods will come as a mortal! He will leave his people to aid you in your time of need! You will love him at first, but then you will blame him and his family for your downfall! You will persecute him, slay his family! Then you will all fall! You will all suffer! Your Queen was only the first to fall!—"

"Shut up, heretic!" one of the guards yelled. My heart lurched in my chest. Mama's death was only two months ago then.

"You cannot silence the truth!—" The other guard swung his fist into the man's jaw, shutting him up! That sudden strike made me flinch. The heretic said no more as the guards dragged him out of our sight.

Then William scoffed. "Heretic. Pay him no heed, Snow. He is only delusional and a traitor. He will die."

I remember frowning and looking up at him. "But why? He was only speaking up for what he believes." William looked down at me with horror. It almost shook my resolve, but I pressed on in the heretic's defense. "There is something to admire there."

"Admire!?" He looked almost petrified by my words. He shook his head suddenly and his brows furrowed with anger. "There is nothing to admire about a heretic! Be careful what you say!" His face softened and his eyes filled with worry. "God forbid anyone should accuse you of heresy."

A chill goes down my spine now just as it did then when he said those words. I force my back against the pillow, the pillow a cushion between me and the hard, cold wall. I know what he said was only a warning from a very concerned friend. For William's sake, I had put the incident far from my mind. Only now has it resurfaced. Only now have I dared to think so-called heretical thoughts.

Eric said he was a willful exile of Stigr's clan. He chose to leave his home, his people...all so he could throw himself into a fight for a people that are not his own. From what Wessel told me, Eric and his brother were loved at first. They were uplifted to high positions by my father...then their downfall came. We repaid the brothers' sacrifice by murdering one and plotting to murder the other. God, it's eerily similar to that heretic's...ramblings. And after that, here we are suffering under Ravenna's rule.

Whether Eric is a vessel of the bear god or my mind has wandered to some strange imaginings in my torturous wait for him to return, I'm not sure. Though no one can deny he has Ursus' blood flowing through his veins. No one can refute his unnaturally long life that his heart can beat for; two and a half centuries! I force my eyes closed, though it's almost too tempting to open them again. My feet throb and burn beneath the wraps where they had been carved into and stitched up. God, it feels as though I still have my toes! I can feel myself wiggling them!

I grit my teeth against the pain and open my eyes. I snatch the mug of ale off the bedside table and down the last of the ale in several big gulps. The drink soon hits me, making my head spin and the world go off kilter. I rest the drained mug in my lap and drop my head against the wall. My feet still burn and throb like hell, but perhaps the dizzying effect of the ale will help me to sleep.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I watch the world outside slowly brighten, the sky still thick with those immortal grey clouds. Day thirty. Sleep has all but forsaken me. I will eventually fall asleep from exhaustion. It's only a matter of when. The dizzying effect of the ale has worn off sometime ago. I slowly nibble on the inside of my lip. My fingernails drum along the side of the wood mug. I'm grateful that Torrance did not wrap my hands at my insistence. I'm so tired of not having use of my fingers. I burst all the blisters anyways.

When Eric returns...I will tell him about my shortened life. If I can tell him this one lie, it will explain almost everything. My heart grows so heavy. This is the last lie I will ever tell him. The very last. After that, I will be—must be nothing but honest with him if I have any hope of finding real happiness with him. God, how will he react to my shortened life? I doubt it will be with a smile.

How will I start this? Regardless of what I will say first, we must be alone for this. I cannot have Wessel nor Torrance nearby. I'm almost certain Wessel will break down weeping and Torrance...he might be able to refute my lie. My stomach knots. How would Eric respond to that revelation? I drag in a shaky breath, my eyes prickling with the pressing need to cry. No matter what happens, I must discuss this with Eric when it is just he and I. No doubt he will find the opportunity or create one to get us alone, whichever comes first. That moment will come...and that will be the moment of truth, the point where we can clear the murky waters between us, the point where I ask him if he can accept my shortened life, the point where I tell him I want to spend the rest of my life with him...and the point where I admit my true name to him. If I am to find real happiness with him, I want to be Snow White to him. Not Greta. Snow White—Me.

I drag in another shuddery breath and let it go through pursed lips. The dirty panes of the window blur as the tears well in my eyes. They fill my eyes and brim over, trickling down my cheeks. I sniffle back the water in my nose. For all Eric has done for me, for all he has sacrificed for me, he deserves so much more than this, but I cannot give him more. All I can offer him is my broken, selfish, cowardly self. Will I be enough for him?

When we get that moment alone and I start rambling, that will be it. The point of no return. Eric is real happiness and freedom to me. I could gain the man I love, my real happiness and freedom…or lose him forever.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Knock, knock, knock. I startle from sleep, barely managing to peel open my heavy eyes. I blink a few times, trying to clear the fog clouding my head. Someone's at the door.

Knock, knock, knock. "Greta?" Torrance calls softly from the other side of the door. Guilt wrings my heart, weighing on me so much that I will do almost anything to shed this lie off my back. God, if I tell Torrance my true name now…

Knock—"Maybe let her sleep?" another muffled voice says on the other side of the door. I know that sweet voice. "She went through alot last night." A small smile lightens my mouth. Gus is too sweet for his own good.

"I guess…," Torrance trails off, sounding unsure. "Though I would like to check her feet for bleeding. She is too pale as is."

My cheeks burn. I'm too pale as is...I glance down at my hands. The frostbitten parts of my fingers are raw and red beneath the flaky flaps of the blisters, but my hands are so white...like snow.

"I'll let her rest for a bit longer," Torrance says, "but then I'm just walking in—"

"I'm awake!" I call, my voice cracking from my dry throat. I swallow down what spit I have and look back at the door. "You can come in!" I say more clearly.

The door clicks and creaks open. Torrance and Gus both poke their heads into the room. I giggle, the sight humorous with Torrance's tall, lithe stature, and standing before him, all four feet of him, is the red haired dwarf.

Gus lights up when he sees me. "Good morn, milady!" He bows deeply to me and straightens. He looks closer at me, his smile dropping to a frown. "You look so tired. Did you not sleep last night?"

My mouth grows heavy, almost stealing my smile, but I keep it up for dear Gus' sake. "I got some rest. Thank you." I give him a grateful nod and force my eyes up to Torrance.

Torrance looks me over, worry weighing down his face. "I'm sorry to have woken you this early, but I am concerned about excess bleeding. It's not uncommon for bleeding to occur after amputation and debridement, but I wanted to make sure you're not bleeding out."

Amputation!? My stomach twists horribly, that word finally stealing my smile. That...that is what happened to my toes. I let go of my breath and glance down at my wrapped feet. My stomach flips. There are some burgundy spots across the tops of my dressings! I force myself to take in a slow, deep breath. It's just a few spots of dried blood, Snow. They're not soaked. I look back at Torrance with a calmer stomach and nod. "Please take a look."

Torrance breathes out with a relieved smile. "Thank you! I will gladly let you rest afterwards."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Dawn passes into morning as Torrance cleans my stumps, taking special care about my stitches. My right foot looks almost intact save for my missing toes. My left foot, however, is missing a sizable chunk of its sole where my great toe used to be. Torrance said my left foot was more frostbitten than my right foot, regretfully.

As he applies lamia balm to my sutures, my stomach knots. His answer could make or break this day. "Torrance, how long must I wait until I can walk again?"

He lifts his gaze to me, his small smile lightening my heart with hope. "The sooner you walk, the better. I'd like to see you take a few steps tomorrow."

My eyes widen, the corners of my mouth twitching with tentative joy. "Really!?"

He nods.

"What about today!?" I brace my left hand on the firm bed, nearly ready to spring out of it.

His eyes widen as he holds up his hands. "Patience, my dear! You act as though you are going to run to the other side of the world!"

I laugh. Real, genuine laughter. "I might find myself on the other side of the world before I realize it! Torrance, I hate being a cripple!" I gesture to my feet and my right arm still caught up in the damn sling! The blasted thing is cutting into my neck!

Torrance laughs and leans towards me, rubbing my left arm. "Your excitement is heartwarming." His laughter dies while he stops rubbing my left arm, but his smile remains. "I see that this experience makes you appreciate your hands and feet more."

"Oh yes!" I nod fervently. "To be able to walk across the room, to be able to hug someone with two arms instead of one…" my smile lessens. How I want to wrap both of my arms around Eric...if he'll let me after I tell him the last lie I will ever tell him. My mouth and my heart grow so heavy, almost stealing my smile, but I keep it up for appearances. "This experience, for as annoying, inconveniencing, and embarrassing as it is," Torrance chuckles as I continue, "it makes me...it makes me realize how lucky I really am. I will be able to walk again soon. I still have my arms and hands." I shrug my left shoulder, still minding my right shoulder even though it doesn't hurt now. As I look at Torrance's softening face, my heart swells with gratitude. "You, Wessel, Eliza, Geoffrey, Sara, Jerome and Annabelle, Gus...and Muir…" Then there's Greta. Then...there's Eric. Eric...he made all this possible. I would not have crossed paths with Geoffrey and Eliza if it was not for him. I would never have found refuge at Jerome and Annabelle's farm if he had not led me there. God, I would never have met Sara if it was not for him. Honestly, I believe if he never had married Sara, then I would not have survived those last two years of my imprisonment. Her ring...it was the key to my survival. "If it weren't for any of you, I wouldn't have made it this far." My eyes sting with the threat of tears, blurring Torrance's kind, handsome face. "I wouldn't be here now," I say, my voice cracking.

"My dear," he leans towards me again and squeezes my left arm, "there's not many who truly appreciate the blessings they have in life." He scoffs suddenly and sits back, taking his hand from my arm. "Not even me." He laughs amusedly. "Eric doesn't deserve you!"

My stomach churns, pushing a hint of nausea up into my throat. I manage a single, nervous laugh. "You've got that backwards, Torrance." My words lessen Torrance's smile and steal my smile. "Back in the dark forest, it was Eric who made me aware of my ingratitude." The revelation is out of my mouth before I actually realize it. God, it was Eric who made me more thoroughly examine all I have in my life and made me grateful for all I do have. But can one be truly grateful for who they have when she lies to them continually? One last lie, then I must be honest with Eric. I will tell him my true name. Come what will, I will tell him. His fury, his hate, his abandonment, I must tell him. "I don't deserve him," I say. The tears build until they balance precariously on my bottom eyelids.

Torrance sighs and pats my knee. "It's a very good thing when two people help each other to grow. It's a very good thing." He falls silent for a few breaths, nodding more to himself than to me. "Let me finish dressing your feet." He lets go of my knee and grabs a roll of linen off the bedside table. "Then you should try to sleep."

I sigh and nod. Easier said than done. "Alright."

Torrance offers me a small smile before turning his attention to my feet.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

I drink leisurely from my mug of ale. The drink soon hits me, touching my mind with that drunken, fun-craving haze. I snicker into my mug. Torrance is surely with Josie now, enjoying his discreet fun with her, as he put it when he went out the door. I lower my mug. Eric pops unbidden into my head. He had some discreet fun with me. My snicker dies. That is before I ruined it with my woeful attitude. How I wish we could be like Josie and Torrance. Hell, not just like them, but better off than them. No discretion needed. I want to be able to embrace Eric with both my arms and to kiss him whenever I want and in front of whoever is present without care or worry.

Knock, knock, knock. I can't help jolting, my head snapping back to the closed door.

"Who is it?" I call, my words a bit louder than I would have spoken sober.

"It's Gus, milady. May I come in?" he asks from the opposite side of the door, sounding so hesitant.

A painfully sweet smile turns up my mouth. He's so sweet. Perhaps too sweet. "You may!"

The door clicks and creaks open, revealing the stout, fire-haired dwarf. He wears a cautious smile, looking as fragile as glass. One mean comment would ruin his day. "I didn't wake you, I hope?" he asks warily.

My eyes widen while I shake my head. "No, no, no, most absolutely not!" I raise my half filled mug to him, the sweet ale lapping the mug's insides. "Come in please!" I lower my mug ever so slowly to my lap. "I would love to visit with you, dear Gus. Learn more about you."

"Oh, al–alright!" He lights up like the sun itself, still holding fast to his cautious hope in case things turn sour. He steps into the room like a newborn lamb taking its first steps, eager but frightened at the prospect of moving on his own feet. He climbs into the chair Torrance had pulled up beside the bed and grabs his knees, bearing his beautiful smile that breaks through the dreary clouds of my day. All that's missing is Eric and his blue eyes. Then I would see the blue sky and the sunshine that have been hidden these past fourteen years.

"So, Gus," I start, my smile feeling bigger than what my face is capable of, "please take no offense at this, but I have seen only a handful of dwarves in my lifetime. They all seem...older than you. Am I mistaken?"

He shakes his head, his smile shrinking some. "No, milady, you are not mistaken. I am the youngest dwarf of my band." He holds a hand to his chest. "I was only nine years old when Ravenna stole Tabor."

My heart aches terribly. Ravenna...stole Tabor. She really did. I stole Muir's eyes and she stole our kingdom. We are alike. "Then you must have as many years as I do, give or take a few months. So you, what, have twenty-three, twenty-four years?" God, now that I think about it, how close is the new year?

Gus nods, his smile barely clinging to his mouth. "Twenty-three years, milady. I will turn twenty-four on the first day of this new year."

My eyes widen. "You're jesting! I was born on new year's eve!"

His eyes widen while his smile grows. "Really!? So you are almost the same age as me! Give or take a day!"

"Not even a day!" I shake my head and laugh.

He joins in my laughter and says, "I must say happy early birthday, then!"

That cuts my laughter short. "I wish you the same, but how long before this new year comes?"

"Why it's next week! Seven days exactly!" He holds up seven fingers.

"Oh my," I murmur, my smile gone. This new year...by this time next year, I will be dead. Will I be given the honor of being burnt on the pyre? Or at least be given a space in the frozen earth? Or will my body be left in the open to be consumed by nature and her starved creatures?

Gus' face falls. "Are you alright?" he asks me, so worried for me. His concern touches my dying heart.

I force a smile for his sake. "I'm fine. I'm just...I'm not sure how to celebrate this new year...I want to celebrate it like no other." My chest swells with a bold resolve. This is my last new year. I need to celebrate it to its fullest. As best I can.

Gus shrugs his shoulders, his smile returning. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you how to celebrate this new year...but may I tell you how I plan to celebrate it, if only to give you some inspiration?"

I nod eagerly. "Please tell."

His smile grows. "I plan to spend it with my band, getting drunk, dancing, playing the lute, and singing new year songs!"

He is so excited, so happy—he is untouched by Ravenna's corruption and the misery she brings. Damn me to hell should I bring his spirits down again. "You have a sound plan there. One that lends plenty of inspiration," I tell him.

That makes his smile push into his ruddy cheeks. "Why thank you, milady!" He sits up straighter, looking almost haughty. "My smart brain is only second to Muir's!" His cheeks turn redder and he shrinks up suddenly. "Or so Muir says. Please don't tell anyone else I said that."

I almost gush. Gus is too cute. I set my half filled mug on the bedside table and rest my hand on his shoulder. "I cannot fathom why you'd want to keep that secret, but I will not tell anyone unless you ever say otherwise."

Gus shrugs beneath my hand. "Gort would have a thing or two to say if I said I'm smarter than him."

I smirk at the bashful dwarf and take my hand from him. "Gus, let me tell you something. I have something that you men do not have."

His thick auburn brows furrow with bewilderment. "What's that?" he asks softly, so careful as if he fears offending me.

My smirk grows. "A woman's intuition. I have not met Gort, yet I can tell you now that you are smarter than him."

His eyes widen. "How do you know that!?"

"Because Gort sounds like a big bully, while you are so sweet and humble. The kinder, humbler ones are usually the smarter ones. Besides," I lean towards him, "you can play the lute. I wish I could play the lute. Can Gort?"

Gus shakes his head. "No. He never cared for music."

"See?" I hold my hand towards Gus and drop it in my lap. "It takes a smart mind to know, let alone play music!"

"I...I suppose," Gus shrugs, so humble and modest. His eyes brighten suddenly. "I could show you a few cords on my lute if you'd like...though your fingers…" His eyes fall to my hands, the light in them dimming.

I glance down at my fingertips. They are red and raw, no doubt far too fragile to pluck the hard strings of a lute right now...but that does not mean I can watch him play. I lift my eyes to him. "I cannot yet learn with my fingers, but my eyes are sharp. Go get your lute and show me."

Gus lights up again and bounces out of his seat. "Right away!" He half jogs, half waddles out of the bedroom on his short legs. I giggle. He is too cute for his own good.

Gus returns in short order with his lute and clambers into the chair. We pass the morning and most of the afternoon strumming songs out of his lute. He shows me a few easy chords on the lute and exactly where to place my fingers on the neck of the dwarf-sized instrument. Though my boldness dwindles as my drunkenness fades, my increasing comfort with Gus, brought about by our shared shyness, brings both of us out of our shells. We end up singing some familiar songs together. At one point, Gus goes quiet while he strums the song, leaving me to sing all by myself.

I falter at hearing only hearing my voice fill up the room, but Gus shakes his head at me. "Keep singing!"

I laugh nervously, but I keep singing for Gus' sake. "So what, I say, I took your ale! Yes!" He strikes a fast chord. "I took your ale! Call me a thief! Call me a drunkard! So what, I say! Yes!" He strikes the fast chord again. "I took your ale! Yes!" The last chord is struck. "I took your ale!"

Sudden clapping bounces off the walls of this small room, startling Gus and me. "That was great!"

Gus and I look back at the doorway. Torrance stands there clapping, wearing a proud grin. He stops clapping and points at Gus. "You play very well and you," he turns his finger to me, "I could listen to you sing all day."

"Oh!" My cheeks burn terribly. I glance at the serving tray sitting on the bedside table, another hearty assortment of breads, dried meats, and cheeses sitting on it with fresh ale and tea.

"Thank you, Torrance," Gus murmurs, pulling my heavy eyes to him. His cheeks are redder than usual. No doubt he is just as embarrassed as I am.

"My God, you two are so shy," Torrance says with his grin as he steps into the room and starts sorting through the meal.

"Will you be joining us for dinner, Gus?" I ask the dwarf, turning my gaze to him.

Gus shakes his head as he scoots out of his chair, minding his lute in his right hand. "I fear not, milady. I must go make sure Muir's eaten."

Guilt grips my heart. No doubt Muir needs such assistance because I stole his sight fourteen years ago.

"I saw him sitting by the fire," Torrance says.

"Thank you, Torrance." Gus nods his thanks to Torrance and turns to me, frowning. His shoulders drop. "I'll see you in the morn I pray, milady?"

I force a smile for Gus' sake. "Please come see me in the morning – after Muir is taken care of, of course."

"Of course," Gus says, nodding earnestly. An awkward grin suddenly spreads his mouth. "Hug," he says and throws his free arm about my neck before I even comprehend his request. My heart grows tender. I wrap my left arm about him and rest my chin on his shoulder, his shirt soft and scratchy.

"Hug," I murmur back to him. I pull back before him, meeting his mirthful eyes.

"Have a fair night, milady," he wishes me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he wants to kiss me. A small pang enters my heart for the poor dwarf. Torrance more or less said that Gus likes me. It will never be like that between us, though. Gus is, more or less, a budding friendship. Eric has my heart.

Gus finally steps back from me and bows deeply before he waddles out the door, leaving Torrance and me to our dinner.

As soon as Torrance closes the door, he turns back to me, shaking his head. "I swear, that dwarf likes you a lot."

I frown. "I know. I hope I don't break his heart. He is becoming a fast friend of mine, but that's all he'll ever be."

"I see that." Torrance splits our dinner into two equal portions on the serving tray. "Don't worry about breaking his heart. He's one of those fellows who wears his heart on his sleeve, and he knows it."

My frown deepens. "I hope you're right." Eric. It's been almost two days now. "Eric should be returning soon." Worry stirs in my stomach. "Right? He said a day, maybe two. It is already the second day."

Torrance nods. "He should return by this evening, no later. Otherwise, Hector will run to the town's guard and tell them about us. If Wessel, Locke, and Eric don't return before the morn...we'll have to leave ourselves."

My heart twists suddenly. Eric must be on his way right now. He must be racing on Ylva's back eager to have me in his arms again, I pray...I hope. Then when he returns, when we get our moment alone, I will tell him my last lie. After that, nothing but the truth will I utter to him.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The day grows dimmer. Eric still has made no appearance. Surely he will come see me as soon as he can. Surely? Unless some other business has stolen his time? Torrance will let me know when Eric returns. He is sitting downstairs with Gus and Muir now waiting for Eric to waltz into the Inn.

I drum my fingernails along my empty mug. The world grows dimmer. The drone of the people downstairs is only a whisper. I listen closely to the door, waiting to hear those boots coming down the hall, waiting to hear the door click and its hinges creak, dying to hear the rumble of his voice greet me.

Night claims the sky. I keep drumming my fingernails along my empty mug. I grit my teeth. If Eric doesn't return, Torrance and I...we'll have to leave Vilgard tonight without Eric. Tears prick my eyes, blurring my sight of the black world outside the dirty window panes. Damn it, Eric, where are you!? Sudden fear grips me. What if that noble was prepared for Eric, Wessel, and the others? What if he set up an ambush and took Eric by surprise!? Wait, can Eric be taken by surprise? He knew when that oulinder was stalking us in the dark forest. He knew that it was the wolves with delvir souls who surrounded our tree well. Nothing can take the hunter by surprise. Right? God, that doesn't matter now! If Eric doesn't return soon, then Torrance and I will have to leave tonight. I cannot put the people of Vilgard at further risk, especially if Hector truly does rat us out to the town's guard. Ravenna will no doubt order her black glass knights to raid this village then.

Hurry Eric! Hurry so that it doesn't come to us leaving in the night! Hurry so Hector doesn't raise the alarm and let Ravenna know where we are!