Somewhere beyond that horizon, Diana knew, the past was waiting for her.
In the sky, the stars had begun to fade, the night gradually receding. Dawn had broken some minutes ago, and the horizon was brightening with the first hints of gold and pink. She would've liked to have stopped in her routine and seen the sun rise. It'd been a while since she'd bothered to pay attention to one. But her companions had been quite insistent about being expeditious. Camp had to be broken, the horses loaded and prepared, breakfast eaten, and all of it done quickly, before the rest of the world had even begun to wake.
After all, Sir Théophile had said, the journey ahead was still a long one. Better not to waste daylight.
A warm, gentle breeze caressed her face, and her cloak swayed along with it. The morning chill was rapidly giving way to the spring's heat, the wind picking up and sweeping through the grassy fields. Diana let the current run through her fingers, as if she were stroking a dog. The wind had picked up since before dawn. It'd grow stronger by noon, and it would blow in their favor. Good omens, all.
Or so they should have been.
Their party happen upon the village by chance. Bérénice, Sir Eamon's squire, had been the first to catch the scent of smoke, and had alerted the others. Her master muttered a curse, then spurred his horse, riding on ahead. His fellow knights followed his lead, and soon their company was making their way towards the village, their pace increasing with every passing second.
"Trautenau," Dame Mercedes announced, reading what remained of the signpost just before the settlement itself, its letters faded. She looked to the east, following the burnt grass. Trautenau had been a modest, doughty sort of settlement, not unlike many others in Eostia. Sensibly walled with a stockade of thick logs, it stood in the midst of a clearing, bordered on one side by the forest's edge, and by the banks of the river Montaussons on the other.
It was the kind of village that should have stood a chance, even when surrounded. The kind of village that should have endured, given the opportunity. But it lay silent and empty, its open gates swinging placidly in the wind.
They found nothing. The homes within were all but completely empty, their floors coated with a fine layer of dust. The livestock, such as they were, were gone. Even the wells had been emptied. There were no bodies. Nothing to mark the presence of people, other than the empty buildings.
The only sign of conflict lay in the ruins of what had once been a temple, standing on a low hill, just beside the river. The main building had burned away to the ground, reduced to little more than charred remains. Even that fire had faded with time, leaving only the faint smell of lingering smoke.
"They were clever ones, these folk." Sir Théophile, sanguine as ever, offered a smile. "They knew better than to try to weather out the Legion. I'd bet they made for Feoh, or maybe Schönerstädt."
His brother and sisters agreed with the assessment.
And still, Diana couldn't help but feel a longing as she stood amidst those streets. She couldn't quite say why. Perhaps it was the fact that the village was so very... quiet. So very peaceful, ironically enough. There was no commotion, no violence, no looming threat. Just the warm morning, the chirp of crickets and the distant call of a nightingale.
"A moment of your time, Frau Stockhausen?" Dame Mercedes asked, snapping Diana's attention back.
Diana turned back to her, blinking, and nodded. "Of course. What is it? Madam?"
"Walk with me, if you would."
Diana nodded again, following her along the streets. Their footsteps echoed softly on the dirt road, and Diana was suddenly very aware of how loud the noise sounded, as if her steps were shattering the silence of the abandoned village.
After several moments, Mercedes finally asked, "Is something wrong?"
Diana glanced towards her, frowning. "I'm sorry?"
"You look troubled."
"Troubled?" Diana repeated. "No, ma'am. Not at all. I'm fine."
Mercedes frowned, staring at her. Still, she remained quiet, wordlessly prompting her.
She opened her mouth, intending to deny it once more, but instead let the lie die on her tongue. "I just... This feels nostalgic, I 'spose."
Mercedes glanced about them, considering the streets. "Ah," she said. "You're from somewhere similar, I presume?"
"No. Not really." Trautenau held none of the familiarity of Halem. The streets here were thinner, more uneven, the mountains farther, the sky a shade of blue that didn't feel quite right. No, this place was nothing like home.
And yet... It felt so much like it, anyway.
"But you feel like you know it, somehow," Mercedes went on, as if she could read her mind.
Diana nodded.
Mercedes looked intently at Diana for a long moment, perhaps trying to find something. "I understand, I believe," she finally said, voice soft. She began to walk again, and, after a moment, Diana followed.
They completed half a circuit around the temple, along the empty square, when Mercedes spoke again. "I met a holy woman once," she said. "She was an easterling, I believe. We had a discussion about her faith and ours."
"By 'discussion,' do you mean to say 'argument?'" The words left her lips before she could think any better of it. Diana felt her face flush a bright red, cringing internally. She opened her mouth, about to stammer out an apology.
But Mercedes laughed at that, loud and genuine. "Hah! Oui, I do!" She grinned, and Diana found herself smiling as well. "Ah, yes. It was an argument, and a good one. I'll admit that. She was quite a clever woman."
"Did you win?"
"I am no theologian. But I'd like to hope that I held my own, at least." Mercedes clasped her hands behind her as she continued walking along. "In the end, it wasn't an argument about whose faith was better or greater. That, she assured me, was a fruitless debate, as pointless as arguing which was bigger, the ocean or the sky. Instead, it was a discussion on how to serve.
"Easterlings hold to a strange faith, you see. They venerate only one God. And it is their belief that this God exists within us. We are, all of us, a fragment of divinity made flesh, and He is the sum of all things, as they say. To them, true worship is not simply prayer and ceremony, but leading a virtuous life. When one passes, that fragment returns to the God, and we become a part of Him once more. To the Easterlings, we are all but the briefest spark of a fire that has existed since time immemorial, and will endure for ages yet to come. Above all else, however, I noted that they hold a much greater value in ceremony and prayer than in acts of virtue."
"It's an odd sort of thought."
Mercedes chuckled. "That it is. But I didn't start this conversation to speak about philosophy with you."
"Then, why did you?" Diana asked.
Mercedes paused. "You are a commendable woman. Your skills as a healer, your dedication to the welfare of those you meet. Your grandfather taught you well. But there is more to you merely a heart filled with charity and a surgeon's deft touch."
Diana hesitated, just barely managing to stop herself from squirming under Mercedes' gaze. "...Does there really need to be much more to it?" she said, cautious. "I just... I'm doing what I feel is right."
Mercedes nodded. "I believe that. But you needn't have left Ur to do good works, surely. And yet you travel with us. You tend to the sickly in each township we pass. You keep us well. What compels you so, Diana Stockhausen?"
A lump formed on her throat, tight and heavy. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, letting her gaze wander, searching the village.
Mercedes's voice softened. "What is it that you hope to find in Feoh?"
Unbidden, Diana remembered her last conversation with her grandfather. She remembered the exhaustion in his eyes. The regret in his voice. And she remembered the lies she had told to Mercedes, to Sir Théophile, and the other knights of Saint Iris to earn her place here.
"I'm going for my own sake," she admitted. Her voice was softer than she'd intended it to be.
Mercedes paused, but did not respond.
Diana nodded to herself. The lump was gone. She brought a hand up, fingers idly playing with the end of her braid. "My home... My life... We left everything behind. Just like these people, and who knows how many more. Because... we had no strength. We didn't have what it took to fight back. So, we ran, and hid, and hoped that someone else would do something."
She remembered the journey to Ur. The long, sleepless nights. The hunger. The fear. The tiny, crowded slums that greeted them in the city. The hopelessness that came with having lost everything. The bitter taste that had grown stronger with every day that passed.
"I don't want to run anymore," Diana said. She broke her gaze away from Mercedes'. She looked north. The horizon seemed a million miles away, a far-off point of light. Somewhere beyond it, a tiny village waited. She clenched her hands into fists. "I don't want to wait around, hoping that someone'll do something. If I have to, I'll be that someone. I'll go back to my hometown, and... I'll take it all back."
