Chronicle 4
Phoebe pressed the button again.
…and again.
…and again.
At first she had been patient.
The chimney was smoking.
Someone was obviously home.
Therefore someone would eventually answer.
Simple.
Reasonable.
The problem was that several minutes had passed and nobody
had answered.
Phoebe pressed the button once more.
A faint bell echoed somewhere beyond the wall.
Then silence.
She folded her arms.
Waited.
Pressed it again.
Nothing.
"Come on..."
The words escaped before she could stop them.
The woman in the woods had become almost mythical in
Phoebe's mind.
Finding the cabin had felt like a breakthrough.
Now she was standing outside a gate ringing a bell like an
idiot.
Phoebe pressed the button again.
The bell rang.
Then a voice called out.
"You're very determined."
Phoebe nearly jumped.
The voice had come from behind her.
She spun around.
A woman stood on the path carrying a bundle of firewood.
Animal-skin cloak.
Dark hair.
Weathered face.
Completely unimpressed expression.
Phoebe immediately knew who she was.
The woman in the woods.
The woman glanced at the button.
Then at Phoebe.
Then at the button again.
"I heard you the first six times."
Phoebe felt herself blush.
"Sorry."
"Don't be."
The woman adjusted the firewood.
"It means the bell works."
Phoebe looked toward the cabin.
"I thought nobody was home."
"There is somebody home."
The woman nodded toward the cabin.
"She's just too tired to answer the door."
Phoebe frowned.
"She?"
The woman smiled slightly.
Then walked toward the gate.
"Why are you here?"
The question immediately reignited Phoebe's purpose.
"My name is Phoebe. I come from the Daral Valley."
The woman paused.
Apparently waiting for more.
Phoebe swallowed.
"I'm looking for my friend."
The woman's expression remained neutral.
"Her name is Armintie."
The reaction was immediate.
A smile.
Then a smirk.
Then something dangerously close to amusement.
Phoebe blinked.
The woman laughed.
"Oh."
Phoebe stared.
"Oh?"
The woman set the firewood down.
"So you're Phoebe."
Phoebe felt a sudden rush of hope.
"You know her?"
The woman laughed again.
"I know all about you."
Phoebe's eyes widened.
"You do?"
"Armintie talks about you constantly."
The woman folded her arms.
"I started wondering if the two of you were
lovers."
Phoebe nearly choked.
"What?"
The woman shrugged.
"It wouldn't bother me."
"We're not lovers."
The answer arrived instantly.
Far too quickly.
The woman noticed.
Her smile widened.
"Then what are you?"
Phoebe opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Thought about it.
Then answered honestly.
"She's more of a sister."
The woman studied her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"That makes more sense."
Phoebe barely heard her.
Her heart was pounding.
One question had overwhelmed everything else.
"Is she alive?"
The woman's smile softened.
"Yes."
Phoebe froze.
For a second she couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't move.
All the fear.
All the uncertainty.
All the nights wondering.
All the terrible possibilities.
Gone.
Just gone.
The relief struck so hard her knees almost gave out.
"She's alive?"
"Yes."
Phoebe's eyes immediately filled with tears.
The woman pointed toward the cabin.
"She's inside."
Phoebe started moving before she realized she was moving.
"Wait."
The woman held up a hand.
Phoebe stopped instantly.
"Please."
The word escaped as a plea.
"Please let me see her."
The woman regarded her for several moments.
Then sighed.
"Fine."
Phoebe visibly relaxed.
"…but."
Phoebe immediately tensed again.
The woman pointed toward the firewood.
Then toward the cabin.
Then toward the surrounding property.
"If you're staying here, you help."
Phoebe blinked.
"What?"
"Food."
The woman began counting on her fingers.
"Water."
Another finger.
"Firewood."
Another.
"Cleaning."
Another.
"Repairs."
Another.
"Cooking."
Another.
"Wolf supervision."
Phoebe frowned.
"Wolf supervision?"
"That's mostly for me."
The woman opened the gate.
"Still."
Phoebe stared.
The woman stared back.
Finally:
"Do we have an agreement?"
Phoebe didn't even hesitate.
"Yes."
"Good."
The woman stepped aside.
Phoebe practically ran through the gate.
The woman watched her go.
Then smiled to herself.
Because the moment Phoebe disappeared toward the cabin, she
looked remarkably similar to Armintie.
…and that explained a great many things.
Including why neither girl had been able to stop talking
about the other.
Phoebe barely noticed the cabin's interior.
There were shelves.
Books.
Tools.
Blankets.
Maps.
A table.
A stove.
Evidence of an actual life.
Phoebe saw none of it.
Her eyes immediately searched the room.
Looking for one person.
Then she found her.
Armintie sat on a bed near the far wall.
Wrapped in blankets.
Looking healthier than Phoebe had feared.
Much worse than Phoebe remembered.
For several seconds neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Neither seemed entirely certain the other was real.
Then Phoebe crossed the room.
Fast.
Almost running.
"Armintie."
Armintie's eyes widened.
"Phoebe?"
She tried to stand.
Immediately regretted it.
Her legs protested.
Her balance wavered.
She stood anyway.
Phoebe reached her first.
The collision nearly knocked both of them over.
Armintie wrapped her arms around Phoebe.
Phoebe wrapped hers around Armintie.
Neither cared about dignity.
Neither cared about appearances.
For several moments they simply held each other.
Breathing.
Crying.
Laughing.
Trying to convince themselves the other was actually there.
"I thought you were dead."
Phoebe's voice cracked.
"So did I."
Armintie laughed weakly through tears.
Then immediately started crying harder.
Phoebe did the same.
"I'm sorry."
The words came from both of them at once.
They stared.
Then laughed.
Then cried again.
"I'm sorry."
Phoebe repeated.
"I should have stopped you."
Armintie shook her head.
"No."
"I should have."
"No."
"I should have stayed with you."
Armintie's eyes widened.
"You left?"
Phoebe nodded.
The tears returned immediately.
"I couldn't stay."
Armintie squeezed her tighter.
Neither wanted to let go.
Neither trusted the other to remain there if they did.
Even after everything.
Even after the Council.
Even after the exile.
Even after the mountains.
They still found comfort in exactly the same place.
Each other.
Across the room, Vera watched quietly.
A smile appeared.
Small.
Genuine.
The sort that only appeared when nobody was paying
attention.
Eventually practicality won.
Mostly because Armintie was exhausted.
The hug finally loosened.
Though neither moved very far away.
Phoebe remained sitting beside the bed.
Their shoulders touching.
A compromise.
Vera stepped forward.
"I should probably introduce myself."
The girls looked up.
"My name is Vera."
Phoebe wiped her eyes.
"You're the woman in the woods."
"Apparently."
The answer made Armintie laugh.
Vera pulled up a chair.
Then glanced toward Armintie.
"You should probably hear what happened."
Armintie frowned.
"I know what happened."
"No."
Vera shook her head.
"You know parts of what happened."
Armintie opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Because Vera was right.
Large sections remained missing.
Entire pieces of memory simply did not exist.
Vera explained everything.
The hypothermia.
The wandering.
The way Vera had found her undressed in the snow, rambling
about warm water and sunlight.
The realization that she must have hallucinated a spring or
a lake and tried to swim in it.
The collapse.
The confusion afterward.
Armintie listened quietly. Clarified she hallucinated a hot
spring.
She also occasionally glanced toward the floor.
Phoebe listened too.
Her expression grew increasingly pale.
"You almost died."
Armintie tried to joke.
"Technically everyone almost dies."
Phoebe was not amused.
Armintie immediately regretted the joke.
Vera spared her.
"She was very close."
The room fell silent.
Armintie looked away.
Phoebe grabbed her hand.
Refusing to release it.
Vera continued.
"She's much better now."
Armintie brightened slightly.
Then Vera continued.
"...but."
Armintie groaned.
Phoebe smiled despite herself.
"...but she still has recovering to do."
"There it is."
Vera nodded.
"There it is."
Armintie rolled her eyes.
"I'm recovering."
"You're stubborn."
"I can be both."
"Unfortunately."
The exchange finally drew genuine laughter from Phoebe.
The first real laughter she had experienced in days.
Maybe weeks.
The cabin suddenly felt warmer.
Safer.
Alive.
For a little while they simply talked.
About everything.
...and nothing.
The Council.
The journey.
The wolves.
The cabin.
Purushapura.
The future.
Eventually Vera stood.
The motion immediately drew attention.
The girls looked up.
Vera pointed toward the door.
"Dinner."
Armintie frowned.
"We have rabbit."
"We've had rabbit."
Vera corrected.
"For days."
Armintie visibly brightened.
Phoebe looked confused.
Vera smiled.
"I'm hoping for something else."
The smile widened.
"Frankly, so is she."
Armintie nodded enthusiastically.
"I never want to see another rabbit again."
"That's because you've eaten six."
"Seven."
"See?"
Vera pointed triumphantly.
Phoebe laughed.
Vera retrieved her cloak.
Then tossed another one toward Phoebe.
The girl barely caught it.
"What are we doing?"
"Hunting."
Phoebe blinked.
"Hunting?"
"You agreed to help."
Vera opened the door.
Cold air immediately entered the cabin.
"...and helping starts now."
Phoebe looked toward Armintie.
Armintie squeezed her hand once.
A silent promise.
I'm still here.
Phoebe squeezed back.
Then rose.
Reluctantly.
Vera smirked.
"Don't worry."
She glanced toward Armintie.
"You'll only be gone a few hours."
Armintie immediately crossed her arms.
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
The answer came far too quickly.
Phoebe laughed again.
Then followed Vera out into the fading afternoon.
For the first time since leaving Daral Valley, she wasn't
walking toward uncertainty.
She knew exactly where she would return.
...and that knowledge made the cold feel a little less cold.
The forest grew quieter as they moved away from the cabin.
Not silent.
Never silent.
Branches creaked.
Birds called.
Snow shifted.
Somewhere in the distance a stream continued its endless
conversation with the mountains.
Phoebe followed Vera through the trees.
The older woman moved confidently.
Effortlessly.
As though she knew every stone and root by name.
Phoebe found herself wondering how long someone had to live
in a place before it became part of them.
Vera suddenly spoke.
"So."
Phoebe looked up.
"So?"
"What was the plan?"
Phoebe frowned.
"The plan?"
"Long term."
Vera stepped over a fallen log.
"What were you planning to do if you found
Armintie?"
The question caught Phoebe off guard.
She had spent so much time focusing on finding Armintie that
she had not thought much beyond that.
Or perhaps she had.
...and simply hadn't wanted to admit it.
Eventually she answered.
"I was going to go to Purushapura."
Vera nodded.
"Then what?"
"Find Love."
"...and then?"
Phoebe shrugged.
"I suppose I'd make a refugee claim."
Vera stopped walking.
Not because the answer shocked her.
Because she wanted Phoebe to hear the next question clearly.
"Do you actually want to do that?"
Phoebe hesitated.
Vera continued.
"Leaving the Blade isn't a small thing."
"I know."
"Do you?"
The question wasn't cruel.
Just honest.
Phoebe considered it.
"I think so."
Vera resumed walking.
"Then tell me."
Phoebe frowned.
"Tell you what?"
"What you want."
The answer should have been simple.
It wasn't.
For a while they walked in silence.
Then Phoebe finally spoke.
"I'm tired."
Vera nodded.
"That's not an answer."
"I'm tired of the clans."
That got Vera's attention.
Phoebe stared ahead.
Following the narrow trail.
"I know that sounds terrible."
"No."
Vera stepped around a tree.
"It sounds honest."
Phoebe exhaled slowly.
"I feel like my entire life has already been
decided."
The words came easier now.
"The Order."
"The rules."
"The expectations."
"The Council."
"The traditions."
"The people deciding what kind of person I'm supposed
to become."
Vera listened.
Saying nothing.
Which made it easier.
Phoebe continued.
"I want something different."
The confession felt strange.
Dangerous.
Liberating.
All at once.
"What kind of different?"
Phoebe laughed.
A little nervously.
"I don't know."
Then she smiled.
A genuine smile.
"I've always wanted to ride a subway."
Vera blinked.
"A subway?"
"Yes."
"That's oddly specific."
Phoebe laughed.
"I know."
"...but imagine it."
Vera did.
Poorly.
Phoebe's excitement grew.
"A train underground."
"Thousands of people."
"Hundreds."
"Maybe thousands."
"Moving through a city every day."
Vera chuckled.
"You really have been reading."
Phoebe nodded enthusiastically.
"...and television."
"Television?"
"Yes."
"I've never watched one."
"Really?"
"Really."
Vera looked genuinely surprised.
Phoebe smiled.
"...and skyscrapers."
"...and airports."
"...and concerts."
"...and—"
She stopped.
Suddenly embarrassed.
Vera waited.
Eventually:
"I wanted to try social media."
The silence that followed felt enormous.
Then Vera laughed.
Actually laughed.
Phoebe immediately regretted saying it.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Vera shook her head.
"I just wasn't expecting that answer."
Phoebe crossed her arms.
"Why?"
"Because most runaways say things like freedom."
"Adventure."
"Purpose."
"You said social media."
Phoebe grinned despite herself.
"It sounds fun."
Vera laughed again.
"It is."
Then she paused.
"Sometimes."
The pause worried Phoebe.
"Sometimes?"
Vera pointed ahead.
"There are people who make entire careers out of
it."
Phoebe's eyes widened.
"Really?"
"There are also millions who try."
"Oh."
"There it is."
Phoebe laughed.
Vera smiled.
"That job is harder than it looks."
The excitement faded slightly.
Not entirely.
Just enough.
Eventually Vera spoke again.
"You understand it might not be easier."
Phoebe nodded.
"I know."
"The outside world isn't magical."
"I know."
"Cities have problems."
"I know."
"People fail."
"I know."
Vera studied her.
Phoebe's answer remained unchanged.
"I still want to try."
The conviction surprised even her.
"I know it might be harder."
"I know I might hate it."
"I know I might fail."
She looked toward the mountains behind them.
Toward Daral Valley.
Though she could no longer see it.
"...but I need something different."
The words hung in the cold air.
Vera nodded slowly.
Understanding.
Not agreement.
Understanding.
For several minutes they walked in silence.
Then Vera said:
"You may not have much choice anyway."
Phoebe looked up.
"What do you mean?"
Vera adjusted the rifle slung across her shoulder.
"Armintie needs a proper medical examination."
Phoebe immediately became serious.
"Is she okay?"
"Probably."
The answer wasn't comforting.
Vera noticed.
"It's nothing urgent."
"...but I am not a doctor."
"There's only so much I can do."
Phoebe nodded.
That made sense.
Vera continued.
"Love can help her more than I can."
The statement carried no resentment.
Only practicality.
"They have doctors."
"Counselors."
"Social workers."
"People who know what to do with situations like
this."
Phoebe thought about that.
Then smiled faintly.
"Armintie always wanted to see the other world."
Vera laughed.
"She mentioned that."
"Often?"
"Very."
Phoebe wasn't surprised.
"She talked about cities."
"Technology."
"Travel."
"Everything."
Vera smiled.
"Sounds familiar."
Phoebe laughed.
"Maybe we're both doomed."
"Probably."
The answer came too quickly.
They rounded a bend.
Then Vera suddenly stopped.
Her expression changed instantly.
Focused.
Alert.
Professional.
Phoebe immediately fell silent.
Vera pointed.
A clearing.
Movement.
Large movement.
Phoebe's eyes widened.
A wild boar.
A big one.
Healthy.
Strong.
The animal rooted through the snow.
Completely unaware of them.
Vera's smile returned.
Small.
Satisfied.
"Perfect."
Phoebe looked from the boar to Vera.
Then back to the boar.
"Armintie is going to love this."
"Why?"
Vera's grin widened.
"Because apparently she once tried to kill a
boar."
Phoebe blinked.
"What?"
"Didn't have the tools."
The realization hit.
Phoebe burst out laughing.
Vera joined her.
The boar remained completely oblivious.
For perhaps the final few moments of its life.
The boar took considerably longer to transport than it had
to kill.
By the time they returned to the cabin, dusk had settled
over the mountains.
The wolves noticed first.
Several emerged from the trees.
Curious.
Hopeful.
Professionally interested.
Vera pointed at them immediately.
"No."
The wolves looked disappointed.
Phoebe could have sworn one of them sighed.
They continued toward the cabin.
The door opened before they reached it.
Armintie stood wrapped in a blanket.
Leaning against the doorway.
Watching.
Then she saw what they were carrying.
Her eyes widened.
"No."
Phoebe immediately started laughing.
Armintie pointed.
"No."
Vera nodded solemnly.
"Yes."
Armintie stared at the boar.
Then at Vera.
Then back at the boar.
"Is that the boar?"
Vera considered the question.
"Probably not."
Armintie's shoulders slumped.
Then Vera smiled.
"...but if it makes you feel better, think of this one
as that boar."
Armintie pointed again.
"I almost had him."
"You absolutely did not."
"I was close."
"You had no weapon."
"I had determination."
Vera nodded.
"Which the boar undoubtedly feared."
Phoebe laughed so hard she nearly dropped her end of the
load.
Armintie rolled her eyes.
...but she was smiling.
A real smile.
One Phoebe had not seen in a long time.
Preparing the animal became a group effort.
Vera handled most of the difficult work.
Phoebe assisted.
Armintie contributed where she could.
Mostly by sitting nearby and offering unhelpful commentary.
"You missed a spot."
"I did not."
"That looks wrong."
"It isn't."
"Have you considered doing it differently?"
Vera eventually gave her a glare.
"Have you considered being quiet?"
Armintie immediately became quiet.
For nearly twelve seconds.
A personal record.
The cabin gradually filled with warmth.
The smell of cooking meat.
Fresh bread.
Tea.
Laughter.
Conversation.
Life.
Something about it felt strange.
Not because it was unfamiliar.
Because it was familiar.
It reminded Phoebe of better years.
Before the Council.
Before the arguments.
Before everything started breaking apart.
The realization hurt.
...but not as much as she expected.
Because this time she still had Armintie.
Dinner was the best meal either girl could remember having
in months.
Maybe years.
The boar was excellent.
The bread was fresh.
The tea was hot.
The company was perfect.
Phoebe and Armintie spent most of the evening talking.
Not about anything important.
Not really.
Stories.
Memories.
Stupid jokes.
Shared experiences.
The sort of conversation that only happened between people
who had known each other for years.
Phoebe would begin a story.
Armintie would finish it.
Armintie would reference something.
Phoebe would already understand.
Sometimes neither even needed words.
A glance was enough.
A smile.
A laugh.
A shared memory.
Across the table Vera watched quietly.
Occasionally participating.
Mostly observing.
A warmth settled in her chest.
One she did not entirely appreciate.
Or trust.
The girls looked comfortable here.
Happy.
Safe.
The thought appeared before she could stop it.
Maybe I keep them.
Vera immediately frowned.
Absolutely not.
That was a ridiculous thought.
A deeply irresponsible thought.
An impractical thought.
A thought that continued existing anyway.
She took a long drink of tea.
The thought stubbornly remained.
Eventually the conversation slowed.
Not ended.
Just softened.
The sort of comfortable quiet that followed a good meal.
Vera knew there was one question she needed to ask.
Even if she didn't particularly want to.
She had only met Zasaramel a handful of times.
Brief conversations.
Brief encounters.
Nothing substantial.
She didn't know the man.
These girls did.
So eventually she asked.
"What was he like?"
The cabin became quieter.
Not tense.
Just thoughtful.
Armintie immediately focused on her plate.
The question had found a bruise.
Phoebe noticed.
So did Vera.
Vera waited.
Eventually Phoebe sighed.
The answer clearly wasn't simple.
"No."
Vera agreed.
"It rarely is."
Phoebe stared into her tea.
Searching for the right words.
The silence stretched.
Then finally:
"He's a good father."
Armintie didn't react.
Which somehow made the statement feel more significant.
Phoebe continued.
"He cares."
The words came slowly.
Carefully.
"As much as anyone I've ever met."
Vera listened.
"He always tried."
Phoebe smiled faintly.
"Sometimes too hard."
The smile vanished.
"He just..."
She struggled.
"He goes about it the wrong way."
The cabin became quiet again.
Armintie finally looked up.
Not disagreeing.
Not agreeing.
Simply listening.
Phoebe continued staring into her cup.
"He thinks protecting people means controlling
everything."
The statement lingered.
Nobody challenged it.
Nobody needed to.
Vera nodded slowly.
That answer felt true.
Not complete.
Not final.
...but true.
...and truth was usually enough.
She leaned back in her chair.
Satisfied.
Outside, the wind brushed gently against the cabin walls.
Inside, the fire crackled.
The wolves waited hopefully for leftovers.
...and for the first time in a very long time, nobody felt
particularly alone.
The cabin had long since gone quiet.
The fire had burned low.
The wolves had settled outside.
Even the wind seemed content to whisper instead of howl.
Phoebe slept peacefully for the first time in days.
Maybe weeks.
She dreamed of nothing.
Which made the sudden weight crashing onto her all the more
startling.
Phoebe woke instantly.
Heart racing.
Disoriented.
For one terrifying moment she thought someone had broken
into the cabin.
Then she heard crying.
Not ordinary crying.
Not sadness.
Not grief.
Panic.
Raw.
Animal.
The sort of sound people made when something inside them had
broken.
"Phoebe..."
The voice cracked.
Barely recognizable.
Phoebe sat upright.
Armintie had somehow climbed out of her own bed.
Now she lay half across Phoebe's blanket.
Shaking uncontrollably.
Tears streamed down her face.
Her breathing came in ragged gasps.
Phoebe immediately wrapped her arms around her.
"Armintie."
Armintie didn't seem to hear her.
She continued crying.
Continued babbling.
Words.
Fragments.
Pieces of memories.
None of them made sense.
"The tent-"
A sob.
"No-"
Another sob.
"They were-"
Then more crying.
Phoebe tightened her grip.
"It's okay."
Armintie shook her head violently.
"It's okay."
Another shake.
Phoebe felt helpless.
Nothing she said helped.
Nothing slowed the panic.
Nothing brought Armintie back.
Then another voice entered the room.
Quiet.
Tired.
Knowing.
"It's the nightmares again, isn't it?"
Vera stood in the doorway.
Arms folded.
Expression solemn.
Armintie didn't answer.
She simply nodded.
Once.
The smallest movement imaginable.
Yet somehow it carried enormous weight.
Phoebe looked between them.
Confused.
"What?"
Vera sighed.
Not frustrated.
Sad.
The sigh of someone watching a problem she couldn't solve.
She crossed the room.
Sat on the edge of Armintie's bed.
"They started a few days after I found her."
Phoebe stared.
"What started?"
"The nightmares."
Armintie buried her face against Phoebe's shoulder.
Trying and failing to stop crying.
Vera continued.
"Sometimes she wakes up screaming."
"Sometimes crying."
"Sometimes she doesn't even realize where she is."
Phoebe looked down at her friend.
Armintie couldn't meet her eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Armintie's voice emerged muffled.
"I didn't want you to worry."
That answer somehow made Phoebe want to cry too.
Vera nodded.
"Trauma does this."
Phoebe looked up.
Vera continued.
"The attack."
"The exile."
"The cold."
"The hypothermia."
"The fear."
"Everything."
She paused.
Choosing her next words carefully.
"Hypothermia can affect people for a long time."
Phoebe listened.
"So can trauma."
Armintie continued trembling.
Vera watched her quietly.
Then looked away.
Because she'd seen this before.
Too many times.
Far too many times.
"I was hoping."
The admission surprised both girls.
Vera rarely admitted uncertainty.
"I was hoping that once you arrived, things would
settle."
Phoebe understood immediately.
The reunion.
The comfort.
The familiarity.
The safety.
Vera had hoped it would help.
It clearly had.
Just not enough.
The cabin became quiet.
Only Armintie's soft crying remained.
Vera stared into the dying fire.
Then finally said the thing all three of them already knew.
"We need to take you to Love."
The words lingered.
Nobody immediately responded.
Because nobody was surprised.
Phoebe lowered her head.
Armintie closed her eyes.
Neither looked happy.
Neither looked angry.
Just resigned.
Vera continued.
"I can keep you alive."
The statement was matter-of-fact.
"I can feed you."
"I can keep you warm."
"I can help you recover."
She looked toward Armintie.
"...but I can't do this."
The words were gentle.
Honest.
"I don't know how."
Armintie wiped at her eyes.
Trying to regain some dignity.
Failing.
Phoebe squeezed her hand.
"What happens there?"
Vera's expression softened.
"Doctors."
"Counselors."
"People who know how to help."
The room fell quiet again.
Outside, the wind brushed softly against the cabin walls.
Inside, the fire continued to fade.
Eventually Armintie nodded.
A small movement.
...but a decisive one.
Phoebe looked at her.
Armintie managed a weak smile.
"We were probably going there anyway."
Phoebe laughed sadly.
"Probably."
Vera nodded.
"Probably."
For several moments nobody spoke.
The decision had been made.
Not because anyone wanted it.
Because it was time.
...and somewhere beyond the mountains.
Beyond the forests.
Beyond Daral Valley.
Beyond everything they had ever known.
Purushapura waited.
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