I still don't own any of the characters beside the girls, Mesmeron, Lucius and Philip.
The sun was setting, but there were no stars in the sky yet when Asterix left the village. He decided to watch over Laudanum for a while until it was really dark. He preferred not to walk around too much, seeing as Phyllis had easily tracked him last time. He sought refuge in one of the threes, which gave him a good overview over the camp while shielding him from view the same time.
After a while, he could make out an old man walking around the camp, accompanied by the current centurion. It was too dark to be certain if it was Mesmeron, the only thing he could see was the figure was slightly hunched and assumingly walking with a stick. He fought the urge to get closer. And the temptation of warning people at the village. They already knew Mesmeron was probably staying in one of the Roman camps anyway. But even though it was dark enough to start moving, he somehow found it difficult to leave his spot, to tear his eyes from possible one of the biggest threats ever to his village and just leave. It felt completely unnatural.
His thoughts were interrupted by a rustling noise a few trees behind him. At first he thought of a squirrel, but the figure that started moving from branch to branch was too large to be anything that usually resided in a three. He could nearly not believe his luck as he saw Phyllis gliding down towards the forest ground. Maybe, with the help of the magic potion, he could follow her to where she was residing. She would probably notice him sooner or later, but if he managed to find something belonging to Goliath…. He took a sip of magic potion, placed Idefix in the neck of his shirt, so he wouldn't fall down, and started to follow her.
Not before long, they reached a place in the forest that contained some of the oldest oak trees in the forest. He knew the place well, since Getafix often went there to collect mistletoe for the magic potion. Phyllis went up in one of the largest trees. Following her was risky, since she would certainly hear him climb if she decided to pause for a little while. So he stayed at the ground, placed himself behind some bushes and waited. The large oak trees sat together in a small clearing in the forest, since they cast such a heavy shadow few things managed to grow underneath. Unless she could make jump over 7 meters far or fly, she would have to come down to leave the trees. He had been prepared to convince her of his plans, but he suspected it would be the most difficult part of the entire quest. She had not wanted him to know about Goliath, that much was clear. If he had a chance to find something with the horses scent on without her knowledge, it was also safer for her. She wouldn't be involved.
It took about half an hour before she came down again, jumping from branch to branch again, not losing her balance even once. It looked a bit unnatural. Soon she reached the ground and was swallowed up by the darkness as she went in the direction of Laudanum again. This was his chance.
He had to climb way up before he reached her hide-out. He recognized the design immediately. A small hut with a triangular roof made from leaved branches. He had helped to make similar tree houses for Cacofonix when he went in the forest to "meditate". Only they had had ladders to climb up, a thing that Phyllis obviously not needed. She had to have made it herself, he was sure he had never made a hut here for Cacofonix. For one thing, it was way to high up, and for another, he would never have picked such a high tree to begin with. They had a much bigger chance to get struck by lightning. Cacofonix singing had a tendency of provoking bad weather, and though the bard's singing was as awful to Asterix as to the rest of the village, he would not like to see him toasted during a particularly intensive meditation session.
Asterix entered the hut. It was now completely dark, but the stars and the moon provided some light. He could make out a blanket in the corner, a travelling cloak, a small kettle and a few clothes. Herbs were hanging from the roof, apparently to dry. On the blanket, there was a leather package, which upon inspection, contained two books, written in Latin. One seemed to be a about plants, the other a medical work. Asterix walked a little to the edge of the hut, to have more light. The first pages of the books showed an identical author: Lucius Milanus. He recognized the name at once. Phyllis' father. Suddenly he felt a bit guilty. He was supposed to be looking for things that contained Goliath's scent. He wasn't going to find that in a book. Of course he needed to know if she could be trusted, but actually he did not really doubt that. So he was just being curious.
He looked at the package again, and noticed there were small side pockets in it. One contained a mirror with a wooden carved handle, set with little sparkling stones. Another a small vial with some kind of liquid in it. The last pocket contained a lock of black hair, bound together with a leather strap. He carefully touched it. Phyllis had black hair. But why would she keep a lock of her own hair. He let it slide through his fingers, and decided that she didn't. It was not human hair, it was much thicker. He smiled. This was what he needed. He carefully pocketed it and stood up again. He walked towards the pile of clothes, a thought forming in his head. Idefix could link smells with people and animals. Maybe horses could too. If Goliath was that difficult, it might not be easy to bring her with him…after some hesitation, he took out a shirt that looked more suited for summer weather than the chilly nights in the forests. It couldn't hurt to try.
He was ready to go and he had not time to waste. But he thought of Phyllis returning to find some of her belongings gone. It did not feel right. The package obviously contained things she cherished. She would miss them. Would she be angry? Maybe go to the village to retrieve them. Then again, she could not know it was Asterix who took these things away. Maybe she would think it was Mesmeron. That would be even worse, he could only imagine how she would feel and react to that. He couldn't just leave it like that. He sat down again. In the second book, there had been some empty pages at the back. It meant he had to damage the book a little, but he decided it was worth it. He scribbled down a quick note, and put it in the pocket that had contained the lock of hair.
Phyllis felt pretty irritated with herself. She had not noted Asterix following her. In fact, she had almost flat out ran into him, as she went back up to hang up some more herbs. Being silent had become a second nature to her, but still, she did not expect any intruders. She did her very best to control her fury; if she lost control, he might sense her powers. And she was surprised. Mesmeron was moving around freely in the Roman camps, why was the little warrior not observing hím?
She had planned to observe him as he went through her stuff, to find out what he was looking for, than confront him as he was about to leave. So she had shielded herself from view. But he did not, as she expected, look for things related to her powers. Instead, he took out the lock of hair. She almost choked in anger at that. But the shirt confused her. Why did he need these things? Her eyes got a reddish shine as she let her powers flow. He was going to explain this. But before she had stepped into view, he had dropped on his knees again, now writing a note. Again, she was taken aback, by his actions, and his serious face as he scribbled away. And for some reason, she let him go without revealing herself, to curious about his writing to immediately confront him. If the message angered her enough, she would have no trouble catching up with him, magic potion or not.
Her eyes went wide as she scanned the few sentences he had scribbled. Her already pale face turned a chalky white as their meaning started to sink in. She looked round wildly, not really knowing what she was searching for. Was this an illusion? Quivering, she sat down cross-legged and tried to focus. But no matter how much she focused, she felt not even the faintest trace of Mesmeron. She looked down at the message again, still not believing it.
She thought she had lost the warmth of truly trusting someone for good. But as Asterix' bright blue eyes had searched her face, she believed the worry she saw in them was as real as his anger over the words she had spoken about his friend. As he looked at her, it had felt like he could see the pieces of her shattered heart behind her cold mask, which she had worn for so long it chilled her to the bone, and sometimes made her wonder if there was still someone left behind it. Back then, she had shrugged it off as worry for his own people, which she could appreciate enough to try and keep him from getting involved with Mesmeron. She had tried to shield herself by angering him and playing him.
Tried.
Because his actions right now proved she had not succeeded. Because by picking up that lock of hair, he picked up one of those shattered pieces, and his determined way of acting promised he would not let it go easily. Even when he had to know how badly it could cut him. Manille had to have warned him about that. And if she didn't, Phyllis needed to do so. She needed to stop him. His actions could only bring pain. To her, if he failed and Goliath got in danger, or worse. To him and his friends, if he succeeded, which Mesmeron would find out sooner or later.
But even as she felt fear for both these outcomes, she never moved a muscle. The knowledge that he was willing to try seemed to soften some of those sharp edges that reminded her her heart was shattered. It spread a warmth inside her, and she only realized how much she had yearned for it as she finally felt it again. Her mind told her to push it aside, but something inside her much stronger than her mind told her to hang onto this feeling with every power that was left inside her. And so she did.
Stepping out to help him would only alert Mesmeron sooner. Mesmeron had a power over her that she had not managed to break, he would notice if she went to accompany Asterix on a quest that mattered so much to her. It took her a few moments to overcome the overwhelming urge to follow him, knowing where he was trying to go. But the past had taught her that much. Her only other option was to mirror his actions. She had to read him like he had read her. If she was going to let him walk to what would almost certainly become his downfall, at least she owed him that.
It had been strange to watch someone so fearless, when she had gotten so used of provoking fear with everything she did. But even if he did not seem to fear for his own life, her remarks about his larger-than-life friend had replaced that friendly spark in his eyes by a powerful spark of anger. And she knew better than anyone that anger usually hid other emotions behind its violent outlook. Mesmeron knew how to shatter a person, and it was clear how Asterix could be shattered. If he was on a quest to repair her broken heart than she would do her best to protect his. And So, despite her dismay of the visitors it harbored, she headed for the nameless village near the coast.