Chapter 2: Rain

'It's too hot,' Shin thought, thoroughly irritated.

It was two hours since he'd been dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the grass-filled plain. Once his 'conversation' was over, he'd sheathed his sword and slung the shield and glaive over his shoulder, then started walking down a path that looked more well traveled than the grassy plain around him.

And as if the day couldn't get any worse, he was only thirty minutes into his walk when it started to rain. And when he said rain, he rather meant a deluge of water so great that the path was slowly turning into a veritable swamp. And the ground had been bathed in the sun so much that it was starting to mist. Of course, the grass was loving it.

The damn plant was everywhere.

No matter where he looked, there wasn't a rock or tree in sight. Just more grass, as far as the horizon. The only place where the accursed plant wasn't was the muddy path he was currently walking on.

'Damn it, damn it, damn it. What the hell am I doing here?'

He knew what this place was called. Lhazar, home of the Lhazareen, in the midst of the Great Grass Sea. Southeast of Vaes Dothrak, the only true city of the nomadic horse-masters. The Dothraki.

How did he know all this?

The massive headache he'd felt on arriving had actually been from all the information being shoved into his head.

Languages, locations, knowledge of everything he could ever ask for.

But the real question was, what would he do with it?

For hours yet, Shin continued to think as he walked along the trail, barely even paying attention to where he was walking, stopping only to pull his armored boots out of the mud.

Finally, he simply came to a halt and smacked himself a few times. 'Ah, who cares? I'm not going to figure this out anytime soon.'

Brushing some sodden hair out of his view, Shin glanced up, noticing movement in the distance.

Making sure his sword was ready to be drawn, he continued walking.

XXXXXXX

Far ahead, Ornela struggled to lift herself out of the mud. Her mother and father were in the midst of trying to push along their wagon, whose wheels were stuck.

The Lhazareen caravan they had been a part of had long since left them behind. Small Dothraki hordes were abundant in this part of Essos, new Khals more numerous than the grass their horses fed upon. The Lhazareen as a rule did not ride horses, as nothing would draw the Dothraki's ire quite like a 'lesser' people using them.

The leaders of the caravan had taken one look at them and the rut their cart was in, and moved on without a word, leaving her and her family behind.

Ornela was only eleven years old, but still knew how dangerous it was to be alone out here.

The young girl pulled herself up with a growl and went right back to pushing. She and her parents were struggling to move the wagon which held all the goods they had planned to trade. Her two younger sisters, not big enough to help, were huddled together underneath a thin, soaked blanket, trying not to shiver. The rain had come especially early this year, which her father had not prepared for.

They continued on like this for minutes, the cart not moving no matter how hard they pushed. They sunk deeper the harder they tried.

Then her mother happened to glance back the way they'd come, and let out a quiet gasp.

They all turned around.

From out of the rain walked a tall, shadowed figure. Dark hair was matted with water, his eyes hidden beneath the shaggy locks. Droplets plinked off his scale-mail armor, getting louder the closer he stepped.

Her father turned and reached for a small dagger that he kept with him, making sure he could draw it in a hurry.

"Ignore him," he whispered harshly. "Focus on pushing, don't look into his eyes and don't draw attention to yourselves. He may yet pass us by."

Ornela looked at the approaching man for only a moment longer, before her mother's harsh whisper made her turn back to pushing.

They struggled desperately for more than a minute, making no progress whatsoever, until finally the man drew level with them.

And stopped.

The whole family kept pushing, their eyes down, unsure of what to do.

Any Dothraki without a horse wouldn't bother demanding to use their cart, as that was what the old and the crippled rode. And the Lhazareen carried few, if any, things that the horse-masters would ever want or need.

But they also wouldn't just stand there.

"Oi."

They all froze.

The man lifted a hand and pointed. "Is there a town this way?"

Ornela's father, his eyes downcast, nodded a few times. "Y-yes. We are making our way there."

She could barely make out his face, but noticed a raised eyebrow, as if to say 'really?'

He didn't say anything, however, and, after a second, turned away.

When later asked, Ornela would say that what she did next wasn't a conscious decision. Her body moved, and her mind barely had the chance to protest before the word was already out of her mouth.

"Wait!"

She swore that the heavens held back their rain for a second out of sheer disbelief. Which was nothing compared to the look on her parent's faces.

The man stopped in his tracks; he didn't turn around.

Suddenly realizing exactly how reckless she was being, the young girl nonetheless pressed on. "...C-can you help us? We can't move our cart."

"Ornela!" her father hissed, reaching for her shoulder. She wriggled away.

Knowing what she was about to do was very unwise, she moved a bit closer to the stranger, who glanced down at her from the corner of his eye.

And laid a tiny, quaking hand on his arm.

"P-please. My sisters are sick."

He turned his head and stared at her. Even after a few seconds, she couldn't tell what color his eyes were.

Then he stepped away. She felt her stomach sink.

Out of the ground in front of it jutted a small rock. He walked forward a little, lifted a foot and stomped on it, feeling the satisfying jarring sensation as he hit something solid. He stretched out a hand, grabbing the bottom edge of the wooden wagon.

Without a word, he pressed his foot down onto the rigid stone and, with a single hand, pulled.

XXXXXXX

The back wheels of the cart dragged along the muddy ground, but Shin would not be denied.

Less than two seconds after he had started pulling, the wheels came free and rolled away from the ditches they'd been in. He stopped pulling after a second, letting the cart rest on more solid ground.

Without a word, he let go of the cart, turned, and walked away.

'You'd better get a move on. It's dangerous out here.'

A/N: And, done. I'll try to have more finished soon.

Thanks for all the reviews, and hope you enjoyed!