Chapter Two ~ The High Road
My feet slapped softly on the stairs as I tiptoed from my room. The house was extra-quiet when I left, as if a blanket was muffling out the sound. I opened the door into the inn and chose to slip inside the dining room, deciding on getting a bite to eat first. Breakfast wasn't served for another hour, so there were no guests up and about and upstairs is soundless.
I picked a piece of fruit from the table centerpiece and munched on it slowly, looking around as I do. I wanted to remember this place really well so it would take longer for me to forget how it looks. I was going away for about the whole summer - more if it worked out with the Queen and my parents.
It sounded strange using the word. One, I was using it casually, like, 'The Queen is coming over today,' or something. Two, it was just so weird using it when I was referring to my sort-of long-lost old best friend.
I first met Janelle of Frell when she moved in next door. It was ten years ago, when I was around five and she six. Her father was an ambassador of a sort to a Kyrrian middleman trade, and at first they stayed at our inn, for what better place to stay then at the very place where a little piece of Kyrrian-Ayorthaian history took place? Then, when their situation became more permanent, they moved in next door.
Janelle and I had chemistry. We worked out the moment we first talked to each other, and then, my Kyrrian wasn't so good. It went sort of like this:
'Hello.'
'Hi...'
'I'm Janelle from Frell. It rhymes. What's yours?'
'Uh...'
'It's okay, you can call me Jane.'
'Shayn?'
'No, it's Jane. JUH-ane.'
'SHA-ayrn.'
And it goes on. Initially, communicating was a bit difficult, but over time, Jane managed to teach me better Kyrrian, and she gradually helped me build up better grammar skills and got rid of my accent. She was the best Kyrrian teacher I ever had, and in return, I taught her Ayorthaian the same way she taught me. Soon, we were both combining the languages so that when both our parents were present, we could mix up the two languages so they couldn't follow. We always kept a special private space between us, and it felt special. We had other friends, but nobody else could make us feel the same as when we were with each other, and we lived like sisters.
We gave each other names from our languages. Mine wasn't changer much, since my name was so similar already to a Kyrrian name, Mari. But since there was no Ayorthaian name for 'Jane', then I gave her a name that was pronounced phonetically similar: Sharn.
Years flew by and we grew up together. We each shared our moments of disagreement, and we did fight a little. They were small fights, though, and we made up in the end. Basically, we went through everything. We lost baby teeth, grew taller, and developed maturity - all the things girls go through when growing up.
Then, one day, I found Sharn crying in the stable.
I had climbed into the hayloft where we usually played, but when I lifted myself onto the boards, Sharn was splayed out all over the hay, bawling.
I asked her what was wrong. She wouldn't answer me for several minutes, just kept on crying. I went on to try and comfort her, but my coaxing led to an increase in volume. I eventually gave up and just sat there, staring awkwardly at several spider webs dangling in lofty corners. Finally, Sharn came to a point where she could gurgle out words, so I crept close to her and paid attention.
"Oh, Mari," she sobbed, "my parents are awful."
I asked her why they were so awful. To me, I had never seen them be awful.
Sharn choked. "Father has to go away. He has to go back to our country."
I patted her on the back. Maybe that was awful. "It's alright," I said. "He'll always come back to see you." Then, I had thought naively. I didn't know then that things weren't simple.
A fresh new wave of tears coursed down her cheeks. She sat up, hay sticking out of her tangled hair, eyes red from weeping. She couldn't look at me when she said what she said next.
"Mari... My father's going back...and we have to go back, too. I'm sorry," she explained, as if she had to apologize, "but there's nothing else. We have to leave because my father's last relative died, and he must go back to take care of the matters. And I'm afraid, Mari. I'm afraid that we might not come back..."
A ripple ran through Sharn, but she didn't cry anymore.
I was at a loss - Sharn was going away! Had our friendship grown into a sisterhood, only to be broken up by matters of a dead relative and real estate? Was it that fragile? I had not known that we would ever be separated. All I thought was what we would do together when we had gotten older. But now our futures changed; our paths diverged as they forked away from each other at this turn point. My head spun with such thinking, so I steadied myself with my hands and stared at the individual straws. I didn't notice the warmth trickling out of my eyes, but Sharn did.
Reaching out her arms, she pulled me towards her and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her back and cried openly into them.
She said into my hair, "If I ever get a chance to, I'll make sure we see each other again."
Those words coming from her mouth sounded strange. How could we not see each other again? But I answered, "Don't worry, Sharn. I'll save up lots of money so that you can come back here."
"Me too!" she whispered fiercely.
Just then, daylight peeked over the rooftops of Areeb. The sun was a quavering yoke, sliding over the edge of the horizon then breaking and spilling over the earth. The tangerine light that you only experience at dawn flooded the town and washed into the dining room at the Talgot Inn. It bounced off the crystal and glass, reflecting the facetted light onto my face whenever I moved. I turned the back of my head to face the sunlight, and I stared at my travel pack, resting against the oaken cabinet.
Suddenly, I remembered what I had forgotten and quickly grabbed up my pack and dashed to my room. Once I had reached the quiet stillness of the house, in which the sun had not yet reached and the pale blue predawn darkness remained, I changed my run into a quiet lope. Tiptoeing up the stairs, pushing the door to my room open, I made my way to the bed stand where an ancient book lay. Holding up my bag and pushing the book off the table, I slipped it into my pack like a thief stealing jewels.
Guilt made itself at home as I crept back to the inn. I knew my mother had specifically told me yesterday that this book meant everything to us, but I felt a tug within me that made me bring it along. I somehow knew that this would be important for later on, though I did not know for what.
As I returned to the dining room, I found Mother had come back from the kitchen and was bringing in platters of toast and jam, pails of milk and butter. Also there was Hammond the messenger, quiet as usual yet sampling platters as they passed him by. When I appeared, he stood up and filled a cup with milk, drank it all in a gulp, and handed the used glass to Mother, who took it as she went back to the kitchen. Passing me, she tugged on my arm meaning for me to follow, and so I walked with her outside.
"Marika, you are leaving today! I just thought to say goodbye to you," she kissed my forehead.
"I know Mother." I hugged her. Then I went on, before she could say anything else. "And I will not forget my things or lose them and I will take care of myself, for the maids at the palace are not my mothers, and I will wash my things, clean my room, be on my best behavior, show respect and reverence to foreign customs, pay allegiance to the royal family, and I will absolutely not eat papas fruit for it gives me bad stomach." I looked at Mother. "And I will try to socialize."
Mother smiled at me. "You have grown up, haven't you?" She pulled me in a tight squeeze. "My baby!"
She released me, as my eyes were starting to pop out from asphyxiation. "Mother," I gasped. "I shall miss you."
"And I also," she smiled.
The door opened and Hammond walked out, observing us holding each other. Then he looked away and at a carriage in the road.
"Whenever you are ready," he told me.
I said my last goodbyes to Mother as I took up my pack and followed Hammond to the coach. I had noticed this before when I had walked outside with Mother, but I hadn't known it was for us, and thought it was for another guest in the inn. When I walked up to it, I saw the gleam of black paint and the crest of the Kyrrian royal family emblazoned on each door. Hammond walked up to on of the doors and pulled at a handle, letting me inside. The interior was just as luxurious, and as I sat down on one of the seats, I found them to be so cushioned that they were the most comfortable chairs I had ever sat in. I looked to Hammond just in time to see him shut the door and walk away, and I wondered if he was going back to Kyrria or not. When the driver flicked the whip and we started to trot away, I looked back through the windows (which were glass by the way) and saw Hammond leading his horse out from the stables. So he would be going back, yet not with me. He wanted to be there first to send the news to Queen Janelle. I saw him gallop past us and it was not until then did my homesickness begin.
It remained a fact that I had never in my life been away from home and that this was my first time to Kyrria. I was nervous, and even a bit scared, but I reminded myself that somewhere at the end of the road, in a nice castle, was Sharn, and she was waiting for me. The thought comforted me and kept my wits about me.
During the trip I slept on and off, as the constant clop of the horses' shoes on the high road lulled me to sleep. During my waking periods, I would stare out the window in fascination and breath out clouds onto the windowpanes. I would streak my finger through them and draw pictures, as I did not know how to write very well.
But that became boring, too, so after that I would pull my pack closer to me and carefully draw out the fairy book. Whenever I touched it, my conscious seemed to get dirtier, but I had brought the book along and now there was no turning back, so mine as well use it.
I lifted the creaking cover and opened to the first page. It showed a beautiful still picture of a waterfall. After gazing at it, I turned the page and again, a beautiful still was shown, this time of a wide canyon. I continued to flip the pages as if looking at a photo album, admiring them and drinking of their beauty. Finally, I turned to the last page where I read:
The kingdom of Kyrria is monarchic country. Bordering on the north is
the allying, monarchial country Ayortha. To the east is the Republic
of Morgance, of neutral stance. And south lies the Living Sea and
west lie the Western Wilds. The main exports of Kyrria are grains,
fruits, and metal, and the main imports are wool and wood. Because
most of the forests of Kyrria are occupied by the elves, its lumber
industry is strictly limited, and thus wood normally is supplied
through imports. Kyrria's gnome population, on the other hand,
provide them with a booming industry in stone and metal. Kyrria's
landscaping is beautiful and ethereal. The natural wonders of Kyrria
have become a tourist destination, making this country a heaven on
earth.
I looked up from the book and closed my eyes, picturing the heavenly country in my head. The sparkling Living Sea on its shore, the orange sunshine dappling through its forests, the green papas fruit...no, the purple, exotic passion fruit; red, juicy apples...
My stomach growled. It was nearing noon, and I hadn't a bite to eat since this morning's pear. I just got to wondering when the driver would stop when we pulled up in a small village.
I hopped out immediately and when the driver came round to open my door and discovered I was already out, he shrugged with mild surprise and told me I could buy whatever I wanted with the money he gave me. Then he handed me three silver KEs. When he told me what they were called, I asked him why they were called this way.
"The names of our currency change with the current ruler of Kyrria," he explained. "Each time the king changes, the face on the coins change, and so also the names. The current king is now King Edward. King Edward, KE. The preceding king was King Alexis. It was only recent that the name has changed from KA to KE. Sometimes it takes awhile for folks to get used to it. Well, off with you now. You have an hour to stretch your legs, but you have two more hours on the road. I suggest you use the outhouses if you can."
So I followed my own bidding, keeping careful track of the time by watching the sun's path in the sky. I walked down to the market and bought a loaf of bread, a piece of cheese, and a bottle of milk. It was only after I had paid for everything that I truly realized the worth of six silver KEs. I had two silvers left and twenty-four bronzes and six coppers. I stared at the money in my palm. This was most likely the most money I would ever get to hold in my life.
Pocketing them, I walked around to try and find a place to sit. Walking made the coins jingle in my pocket, and my street smarts told me this wasn't the safest way to be walking around. I broke off half of my bread and ate the inside out, then took my coins and placed them inside the shell of the crust. Pocketing this, with my pocket bulging out extremely, still didn't feel safe, but the obvious jingle had gone.
I found a stoop where I could sit on and I finished my meal there. I ate ravenously, for bread and cheese had never tasted so good, and milk never so thirst-quenching. When I finished I tossed my head up to squint at the sun, and I found I had half an hour still to go. I walked around and looked for a tavern or an inn with an outhouse. I found a tavern, and when I had finished doing what I had to do, I reentered and sat around, biding my time.
The table next to mine held two women, shady characters as my mother would put it. They were discussing something through the fog of smoke and dim light of candles. Seeing no harm in listening in, I discovered something very unnerving.
"Gladys," said one woman to the other, "how do you know such things? How can you be certain that they're true?"
"I know, Chloe, because I have my ways. I can see these things." She waved her arm, and a bunch of bangles and bracelets clinked together.
"So you can see into the future?" the woman Chloe said.
"Sometimes I can, but sometimes I see and think it's the future when it's actually happening now or happened a long time ago."
There was a lull in their conversation. I picked up other traces of conversation around the bar, but not a word from theirs until after a while.
"What do you see, then?" asked Chloe. "What do you see when you have these...visions?"
A pause.
"I see the royal family of Kyrria is in grave danger. Not only do they suffer from one danger, but many." Gladys took a deep breath. "I see the King in...in some sort of trouble. And...a dark man emerging from the palace...he's a traitor! A great war...a battle in the west...a gigantic black army! They come to kill, to seize Kyrria...build an empire... But wait. In the battle, amongst the black of heart and red of blood, there emerges a white bird. There is still hope..."
I stand up and leave. I didn't want to hear any of this. It was just some fortune-teller's claim to fame. It wasn't true. I walked out into the sunlight and made my way to the carriage. If it was true, then I didn't want to be involved. I didn't want to know any of this.
The driver handed me into the carriage and halfway up, my arm slipped. I tripped over the floor and the contents of my pocket spilled out onto the street. I scrambled out and quickly gathered the coins, collecting them in the bread bowl. Once I had them, I got back into the carriage, but before the driver could close the door, I told him to wait.
"You wouldn't want these, would you?" I showed him the KEs.
"No, miss. It's your money now. The Queen gave them to me for you."
I stared at the money as the driver flicked the whip and we started off. Three silver KEs from Sharn! How rich could she be? How happy?
Very happy, I decided. Being poor has its ups and downs, and when you receive more money when you are poor, you become happier. Maybe when you are rich, you are the happiest person in the world.
My feet slapped softly on the stairs as I tiptoed from my room. The house was extra-quiet when I left, as if a blanket was muffling out the sound. I opened the door into the inn and chose to slip inside the dining room, deciding on getting a bite to eat first. Breakfast wasn't served for another hour, so there were no guests up and about and upstairs is soundless.
I picked a piece of fruit from the table centerpiece and munched on it slowly, looking around as I do. I wanted to remember this place really well so it would take longer for me to forget how it looks. I was going away for about the whole summer - more if it worked out with the Queen and my parents.
It sounded strange using the word. One, I was using it casually, like, 'The Queen is coming over today,' or something. Two, it was just so weird using it when I was referring to my sort-of long-lost old best friend.
I first met Janelle of Frell when she moved in next door. It was ten years ago, when I was around five and she six. Her father was an ambassador of a sort to a Kyrrian middleman trade, and at first they stayed at our inn, for what better place to stay then at the very place where a little piece of Kyrrian-Ayorthaian history took place? Then, when their situation became more permanent, they moved in next door.
Janelle and I had chemistry. We worked out the moment we first talked to each other, and then, my Kyrrian wasn't so good. It went sort of like this:
'Hello.'
'Hi...'
'I'm Janelle from Frell. It rhymes. What's yours?'
'Uh...'
'It's okay, you can call me Jane.'
'Shayn?'
'No, it's Jane. JUH-ane.'
'SHA-ayrn.'
And it goes on. Initially, communicating was a bit difficult, but over time, Jane managed to teach me better Kyrrian, and she gradually helped me build up better grammar skills and got rid of my accent. She was the best Kyrrian teacher I ever had, and in return, I taught her Ayorthaian the same way she taught me. Soon, we were both combining the languages so that when both our parents were present, we could mix up the two languages so they couldn't follow. We always kept a special private space between us, and it felt special. We had other friends, but nobody else could make us feel the same as when we were with each other, and we lived like sisters.
We gave each other names from our languages. Mine wasn't changer much, since my name was so similar already to a Kyrrian name, Mari. But since there was no Ayorthaian name for 'Jane', then I gave her a name that was pronounced phonetically similar: Sharn.
Years flew by and we grew up together. We each shared our moments of disagreement, and we did fight a little. They were small fights, though, and we made up in the end. Basically, we went through everything. We lost baby teeth, grew taller, and developed maturity - all the things girls go through when growing up.
Then, one day, I found Sharn crying in the stable.
I had climbed into the hayloft where we usually played, but when I lifted myself onto the boards, Sharn was splayed out all over the hay, bawling.
I asked her what was wrong. She wouldn't answer me for several minutes, just kept on crying. I went on to try and comfort her, but my coaxing led to an increase in volume. I eventually gave up and just sat there, staring awkwardly at several spider webs dangling in lofty corners. Finally, Sharn came to a point where she could gurgle out words, so I crept close to her and paid attention.
"Oh, Mari," she sobbed, "my parents are awful."
I asked her why they were so awful. To me, I had never seen them be awful.
Sharn choked. "Father has to go away. He has to go back to our country."
I patted her on the back. Maybe that was awful. "It's alright," I said. "He'll always come back to see you." Then, I had thought naively. I didn't know then that things weren't simple.
A fresh new wave of tears coursed down her cheeks. She sat up, hay sticking out of her tangled hair, eyes red from weeping. She couldn't look at me when she said what she said next.
"Mari... My father's going back...and we have to go back, too. I'm sorry," she explained, as if she had to apologize, "but there's nothing else. We have to leave because my father's last relative died, and he must go back to take care of the matters. And I'm afraid, Mari. I'm afraid that we might not come back..."
A ripple ran through Sharn, but she didn't cry anymore.
I was at a loss - Sharn was going away! Had our friendship grown into a sisterhood, only to be broken up by matters of a dead relative and real estate? Was it that fragile? I had not known that we would ever be separated. All I thought was what we would do together when we had gotten older. But now our futures changed; our paths diverged as they forked away from each other at this turn point. My head spun with such thinking, so I steadied myself with my hands and stared at the individual straws. I didn't notice the warmth trickling out of my eyes, but Sharn did.
Reaching out her arms, she pulled me towards her and hugged me tightly. I wrapped my arms around her back and cried openly into them.
She said into my hair, "If I ever get a chance to, I'll make sure we see each other again."
Those words coming from her mouth sounded strange. How could we not see each other again? But I answered, "Don't worry, Sharn. I'll save up lots of money so that you can come back here."
"Me too!" she whispered fiercely.
Just then, daylight peeked over the rooftops of Areeb. The sun was a quavering yoke, sliding over the edge of the horizon then breaking and spilling over the earth. The tangerine light that you only experience at dawn flooded the town and washed into the dining room at the Talgot Inn. It bounced off the crystal and glass, reflecting the facetted light onto my face whenever I moved. I turned the back of my head to face the sunlight, and I stared at my travel pack, resting against the oaken cabinet.
Suddenly, I remembered what I had forgotten and quickly grabbed up my pack and dashed to my room. Once I had reached the quiet stillness of the house, in which the sun had not yet reached and the pale blue predawn darkness remained, I changed my run into a quiet lope. Tiptoeing up the stairs, pushing the door to my room open, I made my way to the bed stand where an ancient book lay. Holding up my bag and pushing the book off the table, I slipped it into my pack like a thief stealing jewels.
Guilt made itself at home as I crept back to the inn. I knew my mother had specifically told me yesterday that this book meant everything to us, but I felt a tug within me that made me bring it along. I somehow knew that this would be important for later on, though I did not know for what.
As I returned to the dining room, I found Mother had come back from the kitchen and was bringing in platters of toast and jam, pails of milk and butter. Also there was Hammond the messenger, quiet as usual yet sampling platters as they passed him by. When I appeared, he stood up and filled a cup with milk, drank it all in a gulp, and handed the used glass to Mother, who took it as she went back to the kitchen. Passing me, she tugged on my arm meaning for me to follow, and so I walked with her outside.
"Marika, you are leaving today! I just thought to say goodbye to you," she kissed my forehead.
"I know Mother." I hugged her. Then I went on, before she could say anything else. "And I will not forget my things or lose them and I will take care of myself, for the maids at the palace are not my mothers, and I will wash my things, clean my room, be on my best behavior, show respect and reverence to foreign customs, pay allegiance to the royal family, and I will absolutely not eat papas fruit for it gives me bad stomach." I looked at Mother. "And I will try to socialize."
Mother smiled at me. "You have grown up, haven't you?" She pulled me in a tight squeeze. "My baby!"
She released me, as my eyes were starting to pop out from asphyxiation. "Mother," I gasped. "I shall miss you."
"And I also," she smiled.
The door opened and Hammond walked out, observing us holding each other. Then he looked away and at a carriage in the road.
"Whenever you are ready," he told me.
I said my last goodbyes to Mother as I took up my pack and followed Hammond to the coach. I had noticed this before when I had walked outside with Mother, but I hadn't known it was for us, and thought it was for another guest in the inn. When I walked up to it, I saw the gleam of black paint and the crest of the Kyrrian royal family emblazoned on each door. Hammond walked up to on of the doors and pulled at a handle, letting me inside. The interior was just as luxurious, and as I sat down on one of the seats, I found them to be so cushioned that they were the most comfortable chairs I had ever sat in. I looked to Hammond just in time to see him shut the door and walk away, and I wondered if he was going back to Kyrria or not. When the driver flicked the whip and we started to trot away, I looked back through the windows (which were glass by the way) and saw Hammond leading his horse out from the stables. So he would be going back, yet not with me. He wanted to be there first to send the news to Queen Janelle. I saw him gallop past us and it was not until then did my homesickness begin.
It remained a fact that I had never in my life been away from home and that this was my first time to Kyrria. I was nervous, and even a bit scared, but I reminded myself that somewhere at the end of the road, in a nice castle, was Sharn, and she was waiting for me. The thought comforted me and kept my wits about me.
During the trip I slept on and off, as the constant clop of the horses' shoes on the high road lulled me to sleep. During my waking periods, I would stare out the window in fascination and breath out clouds onto the windowpanes. I would streak my finger through them and draw pictures, as I did not know how to write very well.
But that became boring, too, so after that I would pull my pack closer to me and carefully draw out the fairy book. Whenever I touched it, my conscious seemed to get dirtier, but I had brought the book along and now there was no turning back, so mine as well use it.
I lifted the creaking cover and opened to the first page. It showed a beautiful still picture of a waterfall. After gazing at it, I turned the page and again, a beautiful still was shown, this time of a wide canyon. I continued to flip the pages as if looking at a photo album, admiring them and drinking of their beauty. Finally, I turned to the last page where I read:
The kingdom of Kyrria is monarchic country. Bordering on the north is
the allying, monarchial country Ayortha. To the east is the Republic
of Morgance, of neutral stance. And south lies the Living Sea and
west lie the Western Wilds. The main exports of Kyrria are grains,
fruits, and metal, and the main imports are wool and wood. Because
most of the forests of Kyrria are occupied by the elves, its lumber
industry is strictly limited, and thus wood normally is supplied
through imports. Kyrria's gnome population, on the other hand,
provide them with a booming industry in stone and metal. Kyrria's
landscaping is beautiful and ethereal. The natural wonders of Kyrria
have become a tourist destination, making this country a heaven on
earth.
I looked up from the book and closed my eyes, picturing the heavenly country in my head. The sparkling Living Sea on its shore, the orange sunshine dappling through its forests, the green papas fruit...no, the purple, exotic passion fruit; red, juicy apples...
My stomach growled. It was nearing noon, and I hadn't a bite to eat since this morning's pear. I just got to wondering when the driver would stop when we pulled up in a small village.
I hopped out immediately and when the driver came round to open my door and discovered I was already out, he shrugged with mild surprise and told me I could buy whatever I wanted with the money he gave me. Then he handed me three silver KEs. When he told me what they were called, I asked him why they were called this way.
"The names of our currency change with the current ruler of Kyrria," he explained. "Each time the king changes, the face on the coins change, and so also the names. The current king is now King Edward. King Edward, KE. The preceding king was King Alexis. It was only recent that the name has changed from KA to KE. Sometimes it takes awhile for folks to get used to it. Well, off with you now. You have an hour to stretch your legs, but you have two more hours on the road. I suggest you use the outhouses if you can."
So I followed my own bidding, keeping careful track of the time by watching the sun's path in the sky. I walked down to the market and bought a loaf of bread, a piece of cheese, and a bottle of milk. It was only after I had paid for everything that I truly realized the worth of six silver KEs. I had two silvers left and twenty-four bronzes and six coppers. I stared at the money in my palm. This was most likely the most money I would ever get to hold in my life.
Pocketing them, I walked around to try and find a place to sit. Walking made the coins jingle in my pocket, and my street smarts told me this wasn't the safest way to be walking around. I broke off half of my bread and ate the inside out, then took my coins and placed them inside the shell of the crust. Pocketing this, with my pocket bulging out extremely, still didn't feel safe, but the obvious jingle had gone.
I found a stoop where I could sit on and I finished my meal there. I ate ravenously, for bread and cheese had never tasted so good, and milk never so thirst-quenching. When I finished I tossed my head up to squint at the sun, and I found I had half an hour still to go. I walked around and looked for a tavern or an inn with an outhouse. I found a tavern, and when I had finished doing what I had to do, I reentered and sat around, biding my time.
The table next to mine held two women, shady characters as my mother would put it. They were discussing something through the fog of smoke and dim light of candles. Seeing no harm in listening in, I discovered something very unnerving.
"Gladys," said one woman to the other, "how do you know such things? How can you be certain that they're true?"
"I know, Chloe, because I have my ways. I can see these things." She waved her arm, and a bunch of bangles and bracelets clinked together.
"So you can see into the future?" the woman Chloe said.
"Sometimes I can, but sometimes I see and think it's the future when it's actually happening now or happened a long time ago."
There was a lull in their conversation. I picked up other traces of conversation around the bar, but not a word from theirs until after a while.
"What do you see, then?" asked Chloe. "What do you see when you have these...visions?"
A pause.
"I see the royal family of Kyrria is in grave danger. Not only do they suffer from one danger, but many." Gladys took a deep breath. "I see the King in...in some sort of trouble. And...a dark man emerging from the palace...he's a traitor! A great war...a battle in the west...a gigantic black army! They come to kill, to seize Kyrria...build an empire... But wait. In the battle, amongst the black of heart and red of blood, there emerges a white bird. There is still hope..."
I stand up and leave. I didn't want to hear any of this. It was just some fortune-teller's claim to fame. It wasn't true. I walked out into the sunlight and made my way to the carriage. If it was true, then I didn't want to be involved. I didn't want to know any of this.
The driver handed me into the carriage and halfway up, my arm slipped. I tripped over the floor and the contents of my pocket spilled out onto the street. I scrambled out and quickly gathered the coins, collecting them in the bread bowl. Once I had them, I got back into the carriage, but before the driver could close the door, I told him to wait.
"You wouldn't want these, would you?" I showed him the KEs.
"No, miss. It's your money now. The Queen gave them to me for you."
I stared at the money as the driver flicked the whip and we started off. Three silver KEs from Sharn! How rich could she be? How happy?
Very happy, I decided. Being poor has its ups and downs, and when you receive more money when you are poor, you become happier. Maybe when you are rich, you are the happiest person in the world.