"That one, right there."

"With the large porch and green trim?"

"Yeah, and the pond out front." Barret looked though the trees as they walked. The city of Durlon hung over them, the Templar tower a beacon over the houses. There was a small cluster of trees they walked through, obscuring them from the view from the city proper. "It's rather strange, being so close to home, but not going there. I doubt anyone I knew is still there." Haelith was somber.

"I wish I knew what that was like. But don't worry! Once this war is done, we can go wherever we want, and I'll protect you. I'll build you a home wherever you like, be it on the highest mountain or the lowest valley." He pulled her close, knowing that he really meant every word. "I almost don't want to wait for Edinmire. I'd be sad that everyone else would miss it, but I also really want to just get it done."

"Who would marry us though? I don't think we have a priest or official in our tribe…"

Barret thought for a moment, frowning. "I… don't know either. Actually, I wonder if there are any traditions we should know about. I remember seeing the Tiger clans do a strange thing where they leap through a bonfire at each other as a symbol of trust, and I've heard the Wolves tend to have violent brawls to see if they are really strong enough to protect their loved ones, but I don't know if there are traditions of our own we should follow."

Haelith turned from looking at the distant houses to the road ahead. "It would be nice to follow tradition, but I've never known any special rituals like you. I was practically raised as a human with a bit of Keidran."

"I know. But tradition isn't just the way to do things, it's a way to remind ourselves of the past. It connects those who came before us to the now." Barret smiled as he spoke, putting his arm around her, and wrapping his tail in hers. "Even if we don't do all the traditions because they just don't work for us, it would still be nice to learn about them and why they exist."

"I suppose you're right. Who do you think would know about that?"

Barret glanced over his shoulder. There were almost a hundred Ishtaer, most of them older than he was. He suddenly found himself wondering once again why they chose to follow him, why they seemed to see him as a leader. His eyes scanned the crowd, not quite sure what he was looking for. But then he saw it. "She would." Haelith looked back to see an Ishtaer with yellow and white scales talking with someone else. "Anriea. I think that she's the oldest among us. If anyone would know about tradition, it would be her."

Haelith slowed her walk, until she was beside the elder. "Yes, young hatchling?" Anriea asked as Haelith approached.

"Would you please walk with us? We have a few questions to ask you, if you are willing."

"Of course, young hatchling." Leaving the rest behind, Anriea walked toward Barret. "What wisdom do you seek now?"

Barret blushed a bit, but smiled. "We were actually wondering what sort of traditions Ishtaer have for marriage. We did not grow up with a tribe or family. I know that we have our way of doing funerals, but weddings are something i am afraid we are sorely lacking in experience for."

Anriea laughed. "Traditions? You really want to know about traditions? Of all the people to leave tradition behind, I would have thought it would be you two."

Barret frowned at this, almost ashamed. "It's not that we don't care for tradition, but we just never learned any of it." Haelith said defensively. "He lost his family, and I never knew mine."

Her face softened, and her laughter stopped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. You two are the youngest of our tribe here, so I often forget how little you actually know of our kind. If you would like, I would still be willing to talk about it, but if I crossed a line, I'll leave you alone."

"No." Barret was quick to respond. "It's alright. I do want to know. Please."

"Very well. If you really want to know, then you should know you have already done things wrong, though no one really seems to care. When a young man takes interest in a woman, it is common for them to spend almost all their time together, just like with all beings. Before they commit to each other as a formal engagement, it is custom for the man to go to her family, stating his interest in their daughter, and for the woman to do the same with his family. However, because we live in such small and tightly knit communities, this is rarely necessary, but it is a kind gesture anyways. I have only seen one such couple who married against the will of the family, and they left shortly afterwards, as it would have caused much distress within the tribe."

"Then my parents may have married against without approval?" Barret asked with a frown.

"Just because they wandered alone does not mean that. It could have been their choice to leave of their own volition. Anyways, as for the actual wedding traditions, the most common practice is to have a wedding like humans do: simple, small, with friends and family. But there is one very important thing that you must do, for it defines who we are as Ishtaer. When you are ready to be fully joined as one, you must use magic together. It is not something that comes easily, but it is a way to bind you together. I cannot explain how it works, I have never married, but when this is done, you would be proclaimed as 'Shur'tiengaiel'. It means 'Partner of heart and of soul' in this tongue. You bind yourselves together with magic. It is not a pact or a link, or anything special, but a way to symbolize that you are truly of the same heart. Your devotion is so great and powerful to one another that not even magic could break you apart."

Barret pulled Haelith close to his side with a wide smile. "I like that. Partner of heart and soul. It just seems to fit."

…

She looked over the list one last time. The thirteen of them were weighed down with supplies of varying kinds, from food and clothing to medicine and tents. There were still somethings they didn't manage to find, but Barret had said weapons would be hard to come by. Tying the ropes around a sledge Belsh had carried in, they made ready to leave through the east gate. Adira led the way through town, and Raine glanced back to see Euchre standing a short distance away, a sad look on his face. He had been following them for a while, but hadn't approached them. She debated going back to him, but they were already running behind.

She was drawn back as Belsh grunted, the wooden frame creaking under the weight of their supplies. As they walked through the city, they drew the eyes of many, though none stopped them. But as the east gate came into view, Adira stopped very suddenly, as the way was blocked. Raine walked past her to see a tall man with fiery red hair, a sharply trimmed goatee, and a sword hanging by his side. He was dressed in half plate armor, and was speaking with several Templar soldiers, seemingly directing them. "Adira, they're going to ask questions if we don't keep moving. We just have to…" Raine's voice trailed off. The man was holding several pieces of paper, and even from this distance, she could tell what they were: wanted posters. She saw him shuffle through, seeing a picture of Barret, of Haelith, and… "Head to the north gate." she said quickly, hoping that they could slip away unseen.

It was not so. "Hey, you." a heavy voice called out as they turned. Raine's heart pounded in her chest. She could hear the heavy armor clattering as he approached, and she could feel her magic surging, a wild burst just waiting to spill out. "Excuse me ma'am, I'd like to speak with you."

Raine turned back around as this man walked over. He sounded familiar, but she didn't dare ask who he was. "Y-yes? What can I h-help with?" She couldn't keep her voice from shaking. The rest of the group had backed up a few steps, their bodies quivering in fear.

"I've not seen you around here before. What brings you to Durlon?" The man towered over her by almost half a foot, his thick beard covering his mouth as he spoke.

"W-we're just travelers. We needed supplies. We were just leaving."

He looked down at her, and she could tell that he was not buying her story. "That's a lot of supplies for just a dozen of you. And a rather unusual collection of items. Rope, a few daggers, lanterns, pitons, tents, bedrolls, candles and oil, a spyglass, dried rations, all sorts of things. Where did you come from?"

The question caught her off guard. "Uh- Hatchet's Harbor. We're going to Erian."

He raised an eyebrow suddenly. "Erian? Perhaps you got turned around? This is the east gate. Erian is southwest. Or perhaps you know exactly where you are going, and simply do not wish to tell me. I have plenty of experience finding out the truth. Do you see that tower over there? It's part of the Templar Ranger's Academy. I run that building. I know when I am being lied to."

"It's not a lie. We are going to Erian, but our camp is outside the city this way. We have a lot of supplies because there are another dozen people tending our camp right now, who are waiting for us to come back. Please, just let us go, and we will be out of your way." Her heart pounded in her ears as she suddenly realized that he was holding her wanted poster. It didn't have a name, but it was a pretty accurate drawing of her human form. He suddenly followed her gaze, his eyes darting to the poster, and then back to her. Without saying a word, he raised his left arm, and a pair of soldiers began to walk over, their chain mail armor rattling. Raine would have backed up, but she could also hear more soldiers behind her. They were surrounded, and she heard Zavril gasp as the crowds cleared around them. Eyes darted all around them, their minds racing, looking for an angle, a way out. Raine began to let the magic surge through her arm when a loud voice cut through the noise.

"Orlin!" Heads turned to see an old man with long silver hair walk up to the Templar, a fiery look on his face. "Enough. Let them pass."

"This does not concern you, old man." Orlin said, his left arm now reaching down for his sword.

"Let them go. There are bigger things at work here my friend. New information has come to light on certain things." Euchre's voice suddenly dropped to nearly a whisper as he hobbled over, standing right next to the towering man. "Let my daughter go. They will help us. Let them go."

Orlin's eyes darted between Euchre and Raine, calculating. Letting go of the sword, he waved for the soldiers to back off, and they did so without question. "You had better be right about this. If Brahn finds out-"

"He won't. I'll make sure of that. I have new information from Wenmoor regarding the commander."

"Just make sure we're covered. I'd like to keep my head long enough to see Red again." Orlin turned from Euchre to Raine, whose heart pounded in her chest. "So this is the daughter I have heard so much about? Let's hope you aren't a schemer like your father. I wouldn't trust him usually, but right now I have no other options. Stay safe, and don't you dare hurt my son, or I will have your head." His words were strong and fierce, determined and absolute truth. But with that he walked back toward the gate, where the soldiers had gathered to listen to what he would tell them.

"You should leave before someone else sees you." Euchre said somberly. "It was good fortune that it was him you ran into, but there are others who do not listen to me."

"Come with us." Raine pleaded, unable to keep her voice from breaking. Her heart still beat heavily, but at least her magic had calmed down.

"No. My work here is not done. I work for them so I can undermine them from within. I wish I could go with you, I wish you could stay here, but it just can't be. I'm sorry." He turned to leave, but looked back and smiled. "Good luck, my Raindrop. May Fate lead you well."

Raine watched him leave, but then turned to everyone else. The fear still gripped their hearts, and she could see them trying to figure out what just happened. "We should go. Once we get out of the city, I promise I'll explain everything I can."

"You are more than just a shapeshifter." Adira said, her slow steps unsteady as she began walking again. "You make things happen around you. And I'm just glad you're on our side now." Raine rolled her eyes, and began to walk, but found herself glancing back. Her father was talking with Orlin in a hushed voice, while several soldiers leaned close to listen in. She wondered why he did what he did sometimes, but now was not the time to wonder that. They were wanted people, fugitives, and every second here was dangerous. They had already had a close enough call. No reason to push her luck any further.