"Great things are not done by impulse, but by a series of
small things brought together."
~Vincent Van Gogh

Maya led me inside the Keep and down a hallway off to the right, past a flight of stairs, and up to one door among a set of about three. She walked up to the last one and, with her free hand, unlocked it before pushing it open.

"And here we are," she said with a smile. "You can stay here, if you want."

I peered up and around at everything, taking in a general first impression before agreeing excitedly. The ceiling wasn't very high (not as tall as the med clinic and the library, anyway), but there wasn't any risk of anyone banging their head. A simple bed rested in the corner, but it looked comfortable and clean, and that was what mattered. There was a small nightstand next to it, and a chair sat in the corner. A slim table was against the wall between the two. Behind a really heavy curtain, there was a small alcove where a person would… do their business. But what appealed to me most was that all of the stone walls were completely bare, and there was a nice stretch of wall to the left of the door where I could set up my painting things.

"It looks fantastic," I gushed, laying my armfuls of things on the bed without bending over too much. The last thing I needed was for my side to start screeching at me again. "All I need to do is move that table over here so I can set the canvas up against the wall, and…" I started making plans for a way to rearrange the room just enough to suit my paintings.

Yes, I put other things (and sometimes people) before myself. I know it might seem a little… I don't know, weak, or maybe typical, but… putting others first a lot of the time makes me happy. I don't want to be a burden to anyone, and that's part of why I always settle my debts and get even. Sometimes… I guess you could say I pretend I'm okay because I don't want to annoy people with my problems. Back home, I had been known as the shoulder to go to—I would listen to your secrets and not say a word while you talk, then provide advice or comfort later as needed. It was… nice, I suppose, to find someone who understood that side of my nature without even saying a word. "Thank you so, so much, Maya!"

"Sure," she answered good-naturedly, setting the brushes and the color box down on the table to the right. "I have to go back to the library, just in case someone comes in with a tome or something, but feel free to drop by anytime!"

"I will," I agreed warmly, grinning. After a quick hug and a few more parting words, Maya left, closing the door behind her. I allowed myself a happy sigh, resting my right hand on my hip and looking around again. Everything was just a little bit… unloved. Nothing was necessarily dusty, per se, but none of it had been used in a while, either. I gave a mental shrug as I moved what was on the table to what was left of clear space on the bed so that I could move the table to the opposite wall. If nothing looked used right now, I could pretty much guarantee that it would within the next day or so.

Thankfully, the table was light—it wasn't like those heavy-duty tables that seemed to be everywhere in the Keep. It was easy for me to move without having my ribs stab angrily at my side, so I slid it across the room to the other wall. I nodded to myself after having done so, and started setting things out. Yes, the brushes still needed taken care of, and yes, the canvases still had to be actually made, but when it comes to art stuff, I like having it organized.

There wasn't much to do in that respect, so when I was done, I wiped what little dust I could off of the furniture that I could, and wandered back outside.

"It's too late to go on a quest," I said thoughtfully as I sat back down on that patch of grass I had found earlier. "You start them in the mornings and usually finish by the time evening rolls around… Speaking of which…" I looked up at the sky. The shadows were much longer than they had been when I last sat here, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to take on a dusty tint. It was still mid-summer, so 'cold' wasn't something it would be for the next several months, at least. I settled my back against the stone again, doing my best to not make my ribs twinge again. I saw that the shadow on the wall of the keep had, for all intents and purposes, moved up the stone as the sun had slowly fallen. As a result of more of the walls being in shadow, the pale brick had darkened somewhat to an almost dull ocher color.

"Maybe I'll fiddle with the colors in that painting," I whispered to myself with a shadow of a smile, dropping my eyes to the goings-on once more. A few knights worked to open the huge doors in the wall of the Keep, and in rode a handful of other men in armor on horses. The giant animals looked tired, but the bond they had with their riders was clear—they still served their masters, no matter how exhausted they appeared. Frankly, it was inspiring. Black or bay, chestnut or gray, the gleam that reflected off of their necks and bodies automatically drew the eye.

"What amazing creatures," I expressed in a quiet tone. The horses' thickly arched necks and fast-moving legs were a normal sight for almost anyone in Lore, but they had always held a sort of wild beauty that seemed forced into one shape, and that was somehow shimmering out through the cracks. The bigger the body and the slimmer the legs, in my opinion, the more gorgeous the horse.

The knights rode off to their left, in the direction of the medical area. Craning my neck to peer past them, I could see that they rode towards a larger set of double doors meant specifically for those on horseback. They weren't nearly as tall as the Keep doors, but they were almost twice as tall as the normal doors within the Keep. These opened and the riders went through, but not before I caught a glimpse of what looked like stalls.

"There are stables here," I stated softly. Suddenly, my outlook on staying at the Keep was very bright indeed. Never mind that you can go blind from looking at the bright side for too long, I thought wryly, recalling a jab that my older brother had given me a few years ago. I missed him…

I closed my eyes as a rush of memories thundered through my mind. Mother, father, brother… I had left all three behind when I was thirteen. It was nice, back home before I left. I ruefully thought of the fun times that I had shared with all three, especially my brother… but I was the one who had chosen to leave. I was the only one in the family with aspirations to be something… more. I wanted to be part of something bigger, and I wanted to help people. When I had told them, none of them were happy about it… They didn't want me to leave. I didn't want to leave, either, but leaving home was one of the sacrifices I would have to make.

Mum had supported me. She was one of the mothers that wanted me to go after whatever I wanted, and while it got irritating at times, I was grateful for it. She wanted me to stay closer to home, which I understood, but the one and only thing that made her let me go was the promise to come back when I had finally succeeded.

Dad required a little more convincing. I was his only daughter, after all, and I guess it could be said that I was a bit of a daddy's girl. The main thing that he had insisted on was teaching me as much as he could about the basics of fighting (both armed and unarmed) before I left so I wouldn't be completely defenseless. I actually owed him a lot.

Lastly, my brother. Anthony was my one (and only) older brother. He was only older than me by a year and a half, but he had flaunted the fact over my head frequently. He wouldn't have needed to, anyway, seeing as he was over a head taller. When Anthony was little, Mum said he used to tie a sheet around his neck, grab a stick, and run around the house with a pot on his head, saying he was the most fearsome Guardian to ever set foot in Lore. His dreams of being a Guardian hadn't faded, but he had accepted a more realistic view on life. Anthony's talents lay elsewhere—specifically, in smithing and metalworking. He could put the most intricate design into a piece of red-hot silver that I had ever seen, and was well on his way to being our town's next jeweler and fixer-upper-of-delicate-objects person. I don't know what the job is called, and I don't much care. He was good at it when I left, so he'd probably be even better at it now.

I was so surrounded by warm, fuzzy memories of years long past that I didn't notice when I started to drift, my conscious mind separating from my thoughts. In short, I fell asleep against the wall there, head tipped back and everything. Despite having slept in this morning, I had experienced a very trying day in the extreme. I just crashed, like I would have after having run a marathon or something.

This, of course, meant that I didn't even stir when the last group of horses and riders came trotting through the gate just as night fell. I also missed the broad-shouldered figure in pewter-colored armor riding atop a stunning bay stallion that gleamed with sweat in the torchlight. Six knights followed the man, each on their own charges of chestnut, black, and roan. The gates closed once more behind them, and after a matter of minutes, the same man appeared walking from the direction of the stables.

"Why isn't she in the medical clinic?" Captain Rolith asked Sir Valance in a quiet murmur. The knight on duty shook his head in silent amusement.

"She was hiding from Sir Junn all day, sir."

"Why?"

"Apparently, she didn't want to get put back in the clinic," the knight answered in a low voice. "She was dead-set on finding you. She must have fallen asleep waiting here."

"Finding me?" Rolith questioned, smiling. "Why on earth?"

"You can ask her. Do you want me to wake her up?"

"No," the Captain rejected quietly, shaking his head. "Let her sleep. She can tell me in the morning, if she wakes up in time."

"Are you going on another bandit hunt tomorrow, sir?" Sir Valance asked politely, but there was real meaning behind the question. He was the knight in charge of keeping track of who went in and out of the keep, and if someone wasn't back by a certain time, he was supposed to alert the next in charge: either Sir Preem or Captain Rolith.

"Yes," Rolith replied softly. "Since it doesn't look like she'll be waking up anytime soon, I think I'll just carry her back to her room… Which one is it?"

"East wing on the first floor sir, second door on the left. Loremaster Maya informed me," he told the Captain. Rolith nodded to himself, and with a slight smile on his lips, walked over and carefully lifted the blonde up in his arms.

"What's her name again?"

"She said earlier that her name was Calliope," Sir Valance said in a faintly weary tone. Rolith caught this.

"Go catch some sleep," he ordered. "There are no more men outside the walls. You can get some rest."

"Thank you sir," Sir Valance said gratefully, dropping his shoulders a little bit. Rolith nodded, and walked into the Keep, heading for the east wing. In her sleep, the girl—Calliope?—didn't even twitch. Her head lolled against his upper arm as he walked, and he fought the urge to chuckle, lest she should wake up. It was amusing, though. The thin carpet that stretched down the middle of the hallway muffled the clank of his boot steps slightly as he walked to the lady Warrior's room.

She wasn't light, not by any means. And while Rolith attributed some of her weight to the golden-toned armor she wore, he also knew by the width of her shoulders and the length of her torso that she was also muscular. Not helpless, not by a long shot, he mused. There were many light scratches on the kneecaps of her armor that only went vertically, and he supposed that meant that she had slid to a stop at some point.

He struggled to hold her in one arm as he managed to open the door that Sir Valance had named, and the flickering light from the torches along the wall in the hallway cast a dim light into her room. After gently setting her on her bed, he saw that on a table to the left of the room, there were various items that looked like they had been dug out of the bottom of a broom closet or something. A small box, old brushes, white fabric, and a heavy bucket were the only out-of-the-ordinary items that adorned the room.

A painter…? he wondered briefly. Hmm. She can't do much without canvases, though. That's about when he realized what the rolls of white fabric were for. Oh… heh.

Shaking his head slightly and smiling, Rolith left her to sleep, closing her door softly behind him. The light from the hallway was cut off by the closing of the door, and soft darkness encompassed the room again.

Like I promised, Rolith makes an appearance in this chapter. :) Right near the end, but he does. The last bit is written in third person. Since I haven't written that way in quite a while, it may be a little bit (as I like to call it) jittery when compared to my normal style. ^^ Like I said, the last part was in 3rd person, so I hope it turned out okay. ^^

I really appreciate you guys reading this far, and… well, then. :) Review responses!

Skythorn: Hey there! :) Haha, it kind of feels a little bit like I just trolled you. xD Sorry about that—it wasn't intentional. :) Zhi Lao'Hu is my eldest child (so to speak), and just like me, there can be trouble with pronunciation. xD No worries!
Thank you so much! :) I decided to post this chapter just a few days earlier for that particular reason, haha! Nice to meet you! :)

Arieta41: *points up* You see Rolith, yes? WHAT IS YOUR NEXT COMMAND? *bows down* x3

In the next chapter! Things get a little more…exciting. :) Once they pick up, that is.

Now, over the weekend I remembered something out of the blue that one of my faithful reviewers from Zhi Lao'Hu said about character development and the like. It was absolutely brilliant. She/He said that in order to know a character inside and out, and to know how they would react to something, etc, you must sleep with your characters. xD Now, my being a teenager and all with my mind half in the gutter, I took this exactly the way it was said and promptly started laughing.

Just a little tidbit of my mind that I wanted to share with you. ^^

See you next time!

Juliet