They walked for a long time, barely speaking. The silence was painful, and Jaythen didn't know what to say. He was staring at his feet and making sure not to stumble over any fallen branches or protruding rocks. Grass ended beneath his feet and he was suddenly standing on packed dirt. He looked up and glanced down a beaten path.

"This is a path!"

"To where?"

"It doesn't matter, it will lead to civilization!"

He stretched his arms behind his head with a smile, happy to be rid of that unsure feeling that he would die, lost in nature. They followed the dirt path, it was dingy and unkempt but it had to have led somewhere—a village, a settlement—somewhere where there would be other people.

"You seem rather dependant on other people," she noted from behind him.

He turned with a sudden frown, "What does that mean?"

"You can't rely on yourself for anything."

"How dare you!" his anger was sparked but it settled almost immediately when he remembered what she could be, "I mean, why would you accuse me of such a bleak characteristic?"

"Never mind. I will only upset you."

He stopped walking and stood in front of her so she could no longer advance, "No, you won't. Just please explain why."

She sighed, "Well, my lord, you act as though you would surely die if you couldn't sleep or bathe or eat at a proper establishment. You don't stand up for yourself, and you rely on all types of other people to do work for you. You couldn't even stand up to your own father and so had to lie and use me because you were afraid of telling the truth."

His stare was fixed on her, angry yes, but not at her—he was angry at himself for seeming so pathetic in her eyes. He pressed his lips and darted his eyes away from hers, uncomfortable—"I don't suppose I need other people, it's just always been that way."

They continued in silence, until Avalyn said quite annoyed, "This path takes too long."

He looked farther ahead and it didn't seem to end soon. He felt something hit him in the side of his head softly and grabbed his cloak and shirt in startlement. He whipped around to see what she was doing but at that moment he was lifted up from behind clasped by a dragon's talon. He clutched the clothes to his chest and shouted in terror as they rose into the air. After a few minutes of not believing it was happening, his heart beat leveled to a steady, albeit fast pace and he appreciated the wind on his face. Flying really was amazing, when he wasn't busy being terrified out of his mind.

The trees transformed the landscape below them into a sea of green. He tilted his head up, seeing the dragon's chest and seeing the scars of being struck by his cousin. High above, the long neck was extended and her eyes were studying the ground below. They eventually lowered and she dropped him onto a part of the dirt path, which had become considerably wider. He rolled across the dirt because of his unsteady landing. The dragon crashed upon some bushes and disappeared entirely.

"Throw me the coverings!" he heard her shout from behind them, he did so and then after a moment of rustling around she emerged. He noticed a wooden crossroads sign up ahead and quickly drew near to read what it said.

It was ragged writing, nearly washed away from months of weathering. He finally understood it and his heart dropped entirely.

"Those brutes who we encountered before, were they wearing black boots?"

She gave him a funny look, "I suppose so, although there was much more to pay attention to than the color of their boots."

His voice dropped then, in order not to attract attention.

"You have taken us to Scharberlutes."

"What's that? What's Scharberlutes?" she stood behind him to study the writing on the wooden post.

"You've never heard of Scharberlutes?" he asked incredulously. She shook her head.

"They never sang you that rhyme as a child?"

She was becoming exasperated at his growing cowardice, "No! What is it?"

He shushed her immediately and took a breath before saying the rhyme that he and many other children were told when they were young, often as a reminder to never go to such a place.

"Never wander to Scharberlutes

For you'll cross paths with those uncouths,

Who'll steal, and murder, and burn your roots

Beware the bandits who wear black boots"

She gave him a look of ridicule, "What is so frightening about that?"

"There are more of them, they are an organized band of thieves and murderers. We're in Shcarberlutes—it's outside of the King's realm, it's a place where there is no law, there is no punishment—only chaos and death. They wander freely here."

She bravely smirked, not seeming at all frightened of such things, "Tell me, are mere men more deadly and chaotic than a girl that is able turn to dragon?"

He had forgotten about it again, he always seemed to put it out of his mind when she looked normal. He wasn't used to thinking of her like that—a creature. For when he looked at her, and he remembered her true nature—he would see that horrifying sight of her eating a man. Although she had a point—it was nothing but chaos and what he had considered to be his death when she had yanked him off the ground the night before. Still many men, many dangerous men with a varied amount of weapons and scarred hearts were still enough to worry Jaythen, even if Avalyn could protect them.

"I hope it is not so."

She was right in saying he depended too much on others, because he was now depending on her for defense if they were to cross paths with more bandits.

---

"Why do they call it Scharberlutes?"

"What?" Jaythen paused in mid stride and looked back at her. She had been quiet for a while and her question caught him off guard.

"It's a funny-sounding name, I can't take it seriously."

"You very well should. If I remember correctly, the whole area was named for a magician's apprentice."

She walked hastily to his side, "Tell me the story?"

Jaythen shrugged, "I only know a little, and I don't even know if it's true."

"I don't care, it sounds entertaining."

He cleared his throat and tried to recall what his nursemaid had explained many years ago when he had asked why they named it such a silly-sounding name.

"A long time ago, there was a magician who had an apprentice named Scharber Lutes, but the magician was hard of hearing and so called him Scharberlutes to the apprentice's annoyance. They spent a great many years together and underneath his tutelage, Scharber learned a great deal of nothing and so became frustrated. He stole the magician's book of spells and ran away, to the south of the Kingdom where he met a coven of witches. The witches took an interest in Scharber and his stolen book and so they formed an agreement, he would let them use the book if they taught him real magic. Unfortunately, all they knew was black magic and so Scharber had to settle for that. In time, he grew powerful and feared and so this area was named after him."

"That's an odd tale," she shrugged.

"Like I said, it's only a story of the name origin—how the bandits with black boots formed—I do not know."

"Why does the King not do anything?"

"I suppose he doesn't want to waste time or money trying to clean the sludge of this area and taking it back into his realm"

After a few more minutes of walking, they heard a faint noise. He strained to make out it out—a constant flow of something—and then he realized it was people. A crowd of people, talking, shouting, or singing some way up ahead on the path.

He told Avalyn this, who was also listening intently, "Maybe it's a town?"

They walked at a faster pace and around the last bend in the path they came upon a market. Jaythen looked down at himself and then to her and realized they were not dressed properly for public appearance. He ushered the girl with green eyes to the side of the road, behind foliage, "I'll need my shirt back."

"What am I to wear then?" she asked indignantly.

"I will scour the market and find us better clothes, and bring them back to you."

She gave him a suspicious look but unwrapped his cloak and began to disrobe—he whirled around quickly so not to shame her modesty. Altough he had a feeling that she didn't mind being looked upon—just only when it was with hunger.

"Here," she held out his shirt in a balled white cloth and had his cloak completely wrapped around her, "Do make haste."

He nodded, and slipped his shirt on, leaving her hidden.

He started into the market, which was a vast conglomeration of show tables and caravans of the sellers. He saw a varied amount of goods as well as he scanned the tables. He had only ever been to the market in Wendbury and this was nothing like it—there was much more of a frenzy, a thrilling feeling to be in it the midst of it.

He lingered before one odd table that had human fingers aligned in a row and curiously regarded them. Were they real or replicas? And who on Earth would pay gold coin for one and why? He reached out and met his fingertip with nearest one and it bent at the joint and pointed at him. He gave a shout and leapt back, knocking into a woman. He apologized quickly and turned his attention to a cackling woman behind the table.

"Don't touch unless you're going to buy one, the fingers are quick to point out your offense."

"I'm sorry, but are they real fingers?"

"Yes, I cut them off of lost travelers."

Jaythen felt his stomach twist and he made a face, "What is this place?"

The woman gaped and then cackled again, "Pretty boy, you have wandered to the traveling market of Scharberlutes—the finest place to find anything you could want."

"Who wants chopped human fingers?"

"Witches of course. They use them for seeking spells."

He swallowed and nodded, crunching his own fingers so they were hidden in his hand—now making a fist. He took quick leave of the disgusting display and moved forward through the market.

So not only was he to be wary of the bandits with black boots but now also witches—whom he supposed to only further contaminate the area, this godforsaken realm of black magic.

He finally found a shop stall of garments and stepped through, looking for something that would fit him, and something for Avalyn.

"Can I help you lad?" a woman found him poking around and asked.

"How much for this?" he pulled out a proper linen shirt and a long vest with buckles.

"A song."

"A song?"

"Yes, I collect the currency of song like most vendors."

"But I only have gold coin…"

Her eyes lightened, "Well that's even better."

He narrowed his eyes, suspecting her of lunacy. "I would also like a dress for a lady friend."

She nodded and led him around the display to a rack of very immodest lady outfits, he blushed thinking of Avalyn wearing them—"I think you mistook me when I said 'lady friend', I need a decent garment for her, not one that will amuse just I."

"Ah," the lady shrugged and led him to another rack. There were a few gowns that he would daresay put Develin's work to shame but Avalyn needed something to travel in, not a pretty thing with flounces to drag her down. He ended up grabbing a green dress, with a deep forest green bodice embroidered with intricate designs. The madam vendor quoted that the worth of two songs converted to sixty gold coin. He counted the pieces out and handed them to her. She held the skirt of her dress out, and told him to drop them in the pocket it created. He did so, still giving her a look like she was out of her mind, but she didn't care—only happily bid him farewell.

He made his way back through the crowd, clutching the new clothes to his chest.

"Boy!"

He turned slightly, wondering if it was he who was being addressed.

"Yes you!"

"What?" he turned around and was facing a table occupied with many glass vials filled with liquids every color he could imagine.

"You look like you could use some of my goods."

"What do you mean? What are your 'goods'?" he frowned.

"Potions!"

"I think not, good day," he kept his frown and turning his back to leave, seeing he had been reeled in to purchase something more.

"But, but I have a potion for everything! Love potion, power potion, healing potion, hair growth potion—"

He halted and spun around, "Hair growth potion—?"

The apothecary smiled, seeing the lad was intrigued, "Oh yes, it will give you long beautiful locks and a full beard—"

"I'll take it!" Jaythen bristled with excitement, not even questioning the credibility of the goods, they could have been filled with dyed water for all he knew.

"The hair growth potion is only available if you buy the set though," the apothecary slyly held up his hand and pointed to a holder that held about eight potions.

"Robbery!" Jaythen spat.

"Three songs and it is yours."

Jaythen balked—song really was the main currency they used—it didn't make a lick of sense.

He really did want the hair-growth potion—he wanted to grow facial hair! He doubted he had enough gold coin to cover the worth of three songs. Then an idea struck him suddenly, "I will return shortly for those, and you shall have your songs."

He quickly tried to find his way back to the foliage he had left Avalyn. When he found her, she was sitting in the grass and drawing shapes in the dirt with the edge of a stick she had found.

"That took you long enough," she snapped.

He gave her the dress, "Sorry I didn't think about getting you undergarments."

She twisted her lips in disappointment but took her dress and went to don it.

Jaythen threw off his shirt and tried on the new one, clasping the vest over it. The vest felt light but was made of hard material. She stepped out from behind the foliage and spun around, to he was staring at her back. She pointed to the loose ties of the bodice, "Lace this up."

He took the strings of her bodice and tied them tightly, crossed up her back and secured it in place.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"What?"

"There, back in the market there were these potions for sale and they cost three songs—"

"They cost what?"

"They use songs as currency, I don't know why but these potions I speak of cost three songs and you have a beautiful singing voice—"

"How do you know?" she frowned.

He blushed, realizing she did not know he had been spying on her while she bathed, he didn't meet her gaze and and answered in a half-truth, "I heard you when I was bathing."

Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly in embarrassment, "I don't sing in front of people."

"Why not? Your voice is enchanting," he tried for flattery but she simply frowned and crossed her arms stubbornly. "Please Avalyn?" he clasped his hands together and nearly begged.

"We'll see. Take me into the market and I shall decide."

A/N: Jaythen must really want to grow facial hair. Also, I've made visuals of Avalyn and Jaythen! If you want to see them, they're linked on my profile page on the 2nd 'click here'. Hope you enjoyed. :D