Chapter 16 - The Journey Begins

"Let me go in first," he warned. "He might not deal well with seeing a stranger with no preparation."

She waited nervously in the hallway, peering into the edges of the room through the crack in the door. While the walls of the rest of the infirmary were white, these walls were almost a slate gray instead, and looked as if they hadn't been painted in a long time. There were white markings on them, and she found herself stepping into the room a little to be able to see them better. Many of them on the wall she saw first seemed to be strange combinations of the magic symbols she was accustomed to using and the symbols she had seen in her visions. Engrossed in looking at them, she wasn't paying attention to Father Marus or the other man in the room, until she was suddenly grabbed at the wrist and dragged forward by the haggard, old man that Marus had been speaking to. She tried to snatch her hand back, but his grip was surprisingly strong.

"This one! THIS one must do it!" the man said loudly. She tried to look at him, but he was looking around for something, twisting his head quickly from side to side as he dragged her along behind him.

"Alldeh, let go of her. This is Jetha. She is a friend. Alldeh!" Father Marus came over and tried to grab hold of Alldeh, who was lifting up the mattress to dig for something underneath. Alldeh turned and shoved Marus, sending him backwards onto the floor before turning towards Jetha. For a moment, his eyes met hers and she understood what Father Marus had meant when he'd said he saw intelligence there. Though the rest of the man was entirely unfamiliar, it was the eyes that showed her.

"You must learn quickly child. There's not much time!" Then he blinked, and the wizard was gone again, the madman there in his place. He had something in his hand that he jabbed into hers, causing her to scream as he scraped across it, drawing blood. He then took her hand and slammed it against the wall, smearing her blood against it in dark red circles.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked. Finally she wrenched her hand away from him and she immediately stepped back. Alldeh fell to the floor as if pushed.

"Have to draw it..." he whined. Tears started welling up in the man's eyes, and eventually he scooted into a corner, curled up and sobbed.

Father Marus came over and put a hand on her shoulder. At first she flinched at the touch, but she relaxed when she realized who it was.

"Feel the warmth of Kielle's touch," he said, still touching her shoulder. Her hand suddenly felt warm. She lifted it up to see and watched the wound close itself and go away.

"Why don't we go get that blood cleaned away, shall we?" he suggested. She just marveled at the hand for a moment, nodding. Healing was one of the more complicated acts when a wizard attempted it. Nordithet had told her quite a bit about it, but warned her to not try it unnecessarily. A simple, clean cut could take ten minutes or more of intense concentration to knit the tissues back together properly. A mistake could make a wound worse.

But this had taken just seconds and looked perfect. She blinked at it. Father Marus led her to the door. "Come with me," he said patiently. She looked up. "Yes, please," she replied.

He led her out of the room and locked the door behind them before continuing to a small room off the main infirmary which had it's own water pump and shelves of bandages and clean linens along the walls. There was also a stove in the room and a section of shelves with bottles of herbs neatly stacked and labeled. In the center was a large wooden table with wooden stools around it, and Marus waved his hand towards one of them.

"Have a seat, I'll just get some water," he said.

Jetha sat down on one of the benches and waited while he pumped some water in a bowl and took a cloth from one of the stacks neatly folded by the pump. Her heart was still pounding from what had happened with Alldeh, and she practiced some breathing exercises Nordithet had taught her. It only took her a moment to calm herself again, and she was almost feeling herself by the time Marus sat down beside her.

"I'm sorry about that," he told her, as he took her hand. "I had no idea he would respond that way. I'll have to retrieve that stone after we're done here or he's like to hurt himself as well." Marus frowned as he gently wiped the blood away with the dampened cloth. "Was he familiar from your visions at all?"

"Yes and no," she admitted. "He looks nothing like the man I saw in my vision, but at the same time..." she trailed off for a moment, wondering how to explain it.

"He's the wizard," she finally said. "I saw it in his eyes, but only for a moment. He looked at me the same way he did in the vision. But then it was gone and he was like a different man entirely."

"I have noticed myself that he seems like an entirely different person when he has his moments of clarity," Father Marus agreed.

"I think what I saw in my vision was him in the past, Father," Jetha said quietly. "Something happened. He said they had only bought time and that they failed. He said it was beginning again. There were others in the room with him, other wizards I think. They were all suddenly on fire except him and he fell, clutching his head and screaming." She realized that she was trembling, just remembering it. It had all seemed so real while she had been watching the vision. He'd finished wiping the blood off her hand and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'd like to know more of what you saw, but perhaps that's enough to put you through for this evening. I expect we'll have plenty of time to talk while we're traveling. You should get some rest while you can. Niza was correct, this may be the last night we get to sleep on soft beds for a while."

She nodded at him, and he stood up and quickly took care of the bowl and cloth before they left the room.

"Thank you, Father," she said. "For healing me. And for not... " she trailed off again, not knowing how to explain her gratitude that he didn't treat her the way the last priest had, berating her and condemning her for both her use of magic and suggesting the Gods were involved.

Marus nodded, seeming to understand what she wasn't saying.

"The Gods are with us, Jetha. We'll get through this somehow. Have faith in that." He gave her a smile. "Do you know the way back to your room or shall I take you?"

"No, Father, thank you. I can find my way," she said. The church had seemed relatively easy to navigate from what she'd seen so far, and she thought she knew how to get back on her own.

"Then I must attend to Alldeh and some other matters before I retire myself. I shall see you again at breakfast. Goodnight, Jetha."

"Goodnight."

She stood for a moment and watched him head back towards the rooms, peering into Alldeh's window before opening the door with his key. Then she turned and headed the other way, out of the infirmary.

She did not head back to her room yet. She was still tense from her encounter, and knew she needed a little more time to unwind before she would be able to sleep.

Instead she wandered the hallways of the church. Finding her way around was not difficult at all. The church was laid out in many ways very similarly to her church back home. This one was a little bigger, and had some sections the one back home had not included--like an infirmary, for one--but the central features were close enough.

She found her way to the nave, the main worship area. She did not know how many hundreds of miles she had come since leaving home with her family. It was comforting to be standing in a room that felt so like her church back home.

Braziers hung on heavy chains from the ceiling rafters, and she could smell the smoke from herbs burned on hot coals. She walked down the aisle between rows of wooden pews.

She felt bad that she had not been to church in several years. She had gone devoutly with her mother as a child. Most of the family had. It was the discovery of her magical talents, and then her training with Mr. Nordithet that had created the conflict. In the end it was only Mother that still went.

She still believed and she still prayed. She was never frustrated or disappointed that they didn't answer. She would not have expected them to even if she wasn't becoming a wizard.

Each corner of the room had an altar dedicated to one of the four Gods, with elaborate tapestries hung on the walls between, depicting scenes of heroic acts they had performed that had ultimately brought them to ascend to the higher plane. At the front end of the room, instead of tapestries, a raised platform with a lectern was lit with oil lamps and candles. Wooden pews filled the central area of the room, facing the platform.

She found herself staring at the statue of Ardana. Though the statue had been carved from wood and polished to a brown gleam, her mind put in the colors that she had seen when she'd had her vision. The hair, in a long, loose braid, had been about the color of the wood. The leather armor depicted on the statue was almost as it had been in Jetha's vision, although the brown color had been darker than the wood itself was. The skin had been pale, almost ivory, however, and the eyes a vivid green.

There had been no sign in her vision of the longbow and quiver that was shown on the statue, nor the long hunting knife strapped to Ardana's boot. Ardana was said to have been a protector in her mortal life, one who watched over animals to keep them safe from poachers, and villages to keep them safe from tyrants. It was said that while she hunted and foraged her food from the forests she made her home most often, her respect for nature had made her not waste any of the animals she killed, and prayed for their souls when they died. Jetha had been looking closer at the writings on Ardana that she'd had access to recently, and what Nordithet had told her was correct - there were many who believed that Ardana was also Aldanara, the Goddess the savages worshipped. For a moment, Jetha found herself wondering about the savage woman she'd seen in her vision, and when they'd encounter her. If Ardana and Aldanara were the same, then she didn't doubt the woman would be helped to find her way to them.

That Ardana had been a druid was something the religious texts tended to downplay. While it was not altogether missing, references to it were more frequent in the time right before Ardana became a Goddess, and attempts were made to indicate that it was alright for her because she was on a path to Godhood and destined to have that power for use in protecting good against evil. Those who wrote the books made it seem as if the power was granted to her so she could be ready for her tasks as a God more than for anything she did in her mortal life. There were tiny references, however, to Ardana having been a druid from the beginning. Jetha wondered why the church couldn't just support magic. If they were more supportive, she thought quietly, then maybe there'd be less who'd use their magic irresponsibly. If they weren't already condemned by the church, maybe there'd be far less who'd risk using magic for evil.

She found herself turning towards the statue of Theran next. Theran, considered the wize sage of the Gods, the one who gave blessings and advice to the good and pure, had been a wizard in his mortal life. The statue depiction of him showed him as a scholar. Closer inspection, she noticed, showed that the walking stick he carried had subtle carvings on it that looked almost like some of the symbols she'd seen Alldeh carving in her vision. Older magic, most of which had been lost through the years for the ritual magic wizards practiced now, was the magic of Theran's time. The statue had a faraway look, where Ardana's had been gazing down, smiling on those who looked up at it. It made Jetha wonder if he was the one seeing into the future, in a godly premonition spell to determine the fate of those in Jetha's world. She suddenly thought she might not want to know what he saw, if he could see many possible paths. She was sure that at least one would lead to an Elar victory. She wondered just how much the quest she and the others were on would change things.

Next she looked over at the statue of Kielle, and found herself rubbing her hand where it had been recently cut. Kielle was the only statue not standing, but down on one knee, a hand out to beckon people closer. On her knee, the other hand held a bowl and a small group of herbs had been planted into the bowl. Somehow the herbs always grew in Kielle's bowl - some sort of enchantment the priests did when the statue was first erected. Kielle's statue was always a smiling, welcoming one. Jetha had always felt most comfortable praying before that one. She'd always felt as if Kielle didn't judge anyone, wizard or otherwise.

The last statue, of course, was of Ogrun. The largest of the statues, Ogrun stood in a defensive fighting stance that Jetha had seen her younger brother adopt time and time again, despite the fact that Oddan's small sword was meant to be held in one hand, unlike the huge sword Ogrun carried. The look on Ogrun's face was one of fierce determination. He too, had been a protector in his own way, defending the weak against tyranny by the might of his blade and the strength of his body. The one story told most about him was at the end of his mortal life, however, when he made a mistake, killing an innocent man. When the man's son, barely a man himself, came to avenge his father's death, Ogrun could have easily have killed him as well. Instead Ogrun laid down his sword and let the young man have his justice. Ogrun had fought for the just and moral in his life, and could not live with having murdered a man without just cause, despite the deception that had led to the killing in the first place. The story of Ogrun was known by every bard, minstrel, and actor across the continent, and performed regularly in every town and city.

She found herself turning back to Ardana's statue. She moved closer and turned and sat under the statue's shadow. She closed her eyes, waiting for her mind and body both to calm down more.

She heard soft footsteps and opened her eyes. An older, heavier priest in a Bishop's cassock was walking towards the center space. He saw her and changed directions, heading towards her casually.

"I like to come here before bed, too," he said when he got close enough. "Mind if I sit with you a moment?"

"Of course not," she said, more out of a feeling of obligation and politeness than out of any interest in company.

"Most of the people I see are either local parishoners and the people of this church," he said. "People of other lands who come here do so on business of one form or another. It is nice sometimes just to see an unfamiliar face."

"But you know who I am and why I'm here, don't you?" she asked. "Father Marus has mentioned how much of what he knows came from you."

"I know why you are in this church, yes," he said, looking almost apologetic. "I did not know you were in this room until just now. As for me, this is my favorite place here. But since we are both here, perhaps we could talk for just a moment."

"Alright," she conceded.

"You being a wizard has created a lot of tension between you and your church back home, hasn't it?"

"Yes. They were..."

"Why do you think it is that the church doesn't like wizardry?" he asked.

"Ardana was a druid first, and Theran a wizard," she said. "Is it something to do with people thinking magic is a way to become godlike?"

He smiled. "Not quite. It wasn't the magic that did that. The reality is simpler than that, although it isn't something people are aware of. I'd like to explain something for you, something that is not common knowledge and not commonly understood. I would ask you not to share it, though. It is something to help you, and not something likely to help others."

"Is it a secret?" she asked skeptically.

"No, not really. Just something people don't realize. You see, magic can't make someone a god. It's belief and faith and worship that did that. Take the herb bowl on Kielle's statue. Simple prayer alone keeps those herbs growing. No magical incantations, no spellcraft. We pray and ask that She continue providing for us, and we have faith that She will. And so She does."

"Now, a wizard or a druid could come in and cast a spell that would do the same thing. But there's no faith to that. There's no wonder to that. It becomes a mundane thing. If everyone could do magic, then it wouldn't really be magic anymore, would it? What would a world like that be like to live in, with no faith, no belief, no prayer, no magic--everything mundane and ordinary. Nothing miraculous left."

"But not everyone can use magic," she countered nervously, "and some say that the ability to do so is gifted by the Gods."

"Those who say that are wrong," he said bluntly. "Magic has been here longer than the Holy Four, or Theran would not have been able to use it himself. It may be a slightly different form of magic that he used from what is used today, but it was magic, nonetheless. The Gods may sometimes encourage magical ability in someone who they know will help others, perhaps even you, but the ability itself is part of who you are, just as much as the color of your eyes or hair."

"The prayers that are answered - that is a gift from the Gods. Day after day they tirelessly hear our call and try to help us in what ways they can, even after they have already given us so much. And yet, were magic to be commonplace, if every man and woman cast spells, there would be no need for the gifts the Four offer us. Who would believe in them then? Our Gods have always shown their humility, led us by example. They would not flaunt their power to make us keep faith. And, without faith, as a people we are lost."

"But I can use magic, and I believe in them." She looked at the Bishop questioningly.

"Not all see things as you do, young lady," he answered. "Perhaps that is part of why you were chosen for this task. The Church does turn its back on many of those who aspire to the ways of magic. In many ways, it could also be seen as a test of their faith. It is unfortunate how many fail that test, and abandon their faith in pursuit of their own power. There are those who use magic and view the Gods as only doing small, trivial things for those who believe. They forget that the Gods are only four, and we are so many who ask so, so much of them. Even a good-sized guild of wizards could not fill so many requests so quickly. But, if every other person could cast a spell that had the same effect, people would lose their need for the Gods, and their faith would soon be lost."

"We have only ever discouraged the use of magic. Were it truely an evil thing, we would have launched a holy war against it long ago. It is merely something we need to frown upon, in order to keep the strength of faith amongst the people. The power the Gods give us comes directly from that faith. That is one reason that the Elar are such a threat. They seek to undermine the power the Holy Four have, by forcing us to convert, thus transferring the power to their God instead."

"Oh," she said, not having any other words. Suddenly the quest she was on seemed more important than she'd realized before. Suddenly it was bigger than just taking power away from the Elar before the front line reached her family, as she had been thinking before.

"The Gods would not have chosen you if they did not think you could do this, Jetha," he said with a smile. "Remember that in the journey ahead."

"I can't tell you how things will go on your journey," he told her. "I can tell you it's important, and I can tell you that the Gods chose you for it with good reason. It will be your decisions, your heart, and yes, your faith, that will see you to success."

"Father Marus will do his best to give you guidance to make good decisions. I already believe you have a good heart. Your faith has already been tested once, hasn't it? You will know the Gods are with you."

"It just seems like such a big responsibility," she said with a frown.

"Responsibility is like any work. The biggest job, the hardest labor, is easier when shared. You aren't going off alone. The weight of the world is not on your shoulders. Your responsibility is to be true to your self, your heart, and your faith, and to be the best you you can be. Do that, and the rest will follow."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It can be. Or it can be incredibly difficult. But usually it is one or the other only because we make it so. Now go get some rest and start fresh and ready in the morning."

They both stood up, and she gave him a nod and a thank you. He returned a smile and a gracious nod. They both said good night, and she turned and walked away. She felt a little better.

Back at her room she wondered if Ullden was sleeping well. She supposed that he usually did. He had never seemed to have any difficulty sleeping on the way here. Part of the life he led, she supposed. She slept the night soundly, and was woken in the morning by the soft and welcoming peals of a bell somewhere high above her.

She lingered in bed a short while, remembering that it could be the last time she'd get to sleep in one for an unknown amount of time. She idly wondered how many inns they might encounter and just how far they would need to travel. It felt as if there was a specific destination they needed to reach, but no one had any idea of where that destination actually was.

Eventually, she realized she wasn't going to actually get any more sleep in and she pulled off the covers and got dressed. There was a small basin and pitcher in the room and she used the cool water to wash her face. She brushed her hair and tied it back as neatly as she could without a mirror handy before packing most of her belongings back into her bags. A part of her looked regretfully at her bags, wishing they were staying another day before heading back out onto the road again. With a sigh, she headed out of her room and towards the dining hall for breakfast.

The evening before, they had had the dining hall mostly to themselves, with very few others still eating by the time they had sat down at the small table reserved to one side for them. This morning, however, was a different matter. She had never stayed overnight in a church before, much less eaten a meal there, and was momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in the room. While she had been to quite a few parties that her mother had insisted on attending, the large gowns alone generally limited how many people could be packed into one room at any given time. While there had been more people at the party she'd recently attended for the Duke's son, she was instantly sure that there were more people present in the church dining hall than had been at the dinner the Duke had served.

As she made her way to the table she'd eaten at the night before, she noticed that they seemed to be grouped by rank. Students sat together, quietly talking amongst themselves until they were usually hushed by one of the priests or priestesses. Acolytes also sat together, and seemed to be eating their meal in silence. She even noticed that their spoons only made the smallest of noises as they scooped breakfast out of their bowls. Priests and priestesses sat mostly together as well, although some were scattered throughout, mostly amonst the students, to watch over them. While they too were silent in how they ate their food, there were the occasional quiet conversations amongst them. Most seemed short, however. It made a sharp contrast to the loud roar that settled over the dinner hour at most social gatherings she'd attended with her mother. Most of those gathered were dressed in white, gray, or black robes depending on rank and position. That, too, was vastly different from the vibrant colors of the large, flamboyant gowns that most of the women wore to the social occasions. Even the men wore brilliant colors, although the shape of their clothes was far more practical than the dresses.

Ullden was already at the table, eating. He nodded to her as she sat down, his mouth full of the porridge-like substance from his bowl. She noticed that there was a basket of muffins on the table with some butter, along with a pitcher of juice and some glasses. She poured herself a glass of juice and sipped at it before taking a muffin and buttering it with the knife. Just as she bit into it, an acolyte came by and placed a bowl and spoon in front of her, slightly steaming with the warmth of the porridge in it. She nodded her thanks to the young woman, her own mouth being full. The acolyte just smiled and nodded back before moving on with the tray of bowls and spoons.

"Good morning," Ullden said, once he'd swallowed. "Sleep well?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you. I'll admit I was a little reluctant to get out of bed."

"What, aren't you eager to start our new adventure?" Ullden teased.

Father Marus and the girl entered the room together, but she outpaced him. There was a cheerful spring to Niza's step. She noticed that some of the students whispered among themselves after the Father had passed. She wondered what those students thought about the group, such as it was, or if they even knew what was going on.

"G'morning," Niza said when she arrived at the table. Jetha let it interrupt her thinking, putting the students out of her mind.

"Good morning," she replied.

"Good morning," Father Marus offered a moment later. The two of them took seats and it wasn't long before more porridge arrived.

"Everyone slept well, I hope?"

"Everyone but perhaps poor Alldeh," she suggested.

"Yes, well...a crowded room like this is not the best place for him."

"No, I suppose not," she said, her first encounter with the man playing out again in her mind. She curled her fingers on the healed hand, feeling the intact flesh with her fingertips.

"Perhaps not the most exciting breakfast," Father Marus said, "but it is hot and nutritious."

"Oh, no, it's just fine," Niza said. Jetha wondered how many of the girl's meals in Riverport had been cooked and how many had been...scavenged. She decided she didn't want to think about it. It occurred to her to wonder if the girl had lice.

She put that thought out of her mind too, for the moment, and listened to Father Marus, as he filled them in on details between bites of breakfast.

"I've made arrangements for one of the smaller wagons and some horses. We can stash some of our extra gear into the wagon, and I will ride on it with Alldeh to be sure he doesn't do anything foolish while we travel. Perhaps, as he gets more accustomed to each of you, we can take turns on the wagon with him as well."

"He will seem groggy to you all for this first day," Marus continued. "I have instructed that his breakfast be laced heavily with herbs today so that the transition from his room to traveling might go more smoothly. In the beginning, he might be only half aware of what it going on, and doze off frequently."

"Is there any chance he'll need to be restrained?" Ullden asked, frowning.

"I am hoping that won't be necessary," Father Marus answered. "However, I am bringing along a jacket for that purpose, just in case. He is not a prisoner. I don't wish to treat him thus. The man has obviously been through something terrible as it is. He needs our patience and gentle assistance more than anything. I am hoping that perhaps this journey will even help him. If it is connected in any way to the events that led to his madness, perhaps it could be exactly what he needs to bring him back from it."

"That's a nice enough thought, Father," Ullden said. "But I need to focus my concerns on our safety. It's pretty clear to me that I'm the only one of us with any real combat background right now, and I need to know that he's not going to be a problem if trouble occurs. I just want to know now that you will restrain him in some way if it should become necessary. For his own protection just as much as ours. I've seen enough madmen in my time, and some of them can get very violent for seemingly trivial reasons."

Marus' eyes flickered momentarily over at Jetha, and she wondered if he thought she had told Ullden something about the incident the night before. She decided that she wouldn't mention it to Ullden for now, not wanting Alldeh to have to spend their journey in restraints, even if the man did scare her some.

"I'll help with him," Niza suddenly spoke up. "I've seen plenty of madmen too, and most of them are harmless enough if you just humor them a little."

Jetha could tell that the girl was on the defensive, as if protecting Father Marus. She found it surprising, since the two couldn't have known one another very long yet. She wondered what had brought it on. Father Marus turned and gave Niza a warm smile.

"Thank you, Niza. That would be most kind of you." Father Marus then turned back to the whole table again. "I have also arranged for additional food and medical supplies, along with more herbs to help keep Alldeh calm throughout our journey. Since we don't know how long we will need to travel, however, I will be only using them as I see the need. We want to try and reach the man, so he can give us more information, not just keep him sedate while we wander aimlessly until we stumble onto something."

Ullden frowned, but said nothing, so Marus continued on.

"Everything should be ready and waiting for us in the courtyard just a short while after breakfast. We can gather our belongings and meet there. The Bishop and a couple of others will be there to see us off."

They finished their breakfast and, at Father Marus' direction, stacked their bowls together before standing up. They left as a group and separated in the hallway outside. Jetha and Ullden walked together to their rooms.

"You're rather quiet," Jetha observed.

"Just thinking," Ullden replied.

"About what?"

"There are so many things that could go wrong..."

"Like what?"

"See, that's part of the problem," he answered, frowning. "We know so little about what we're going off to do. We don't even know where we're going. There's some spell or something that needs to be done, but we don't know what it is or what it's supposed to do."

"I think that poor Alldeh knows," she said. "Somehow he'll teach me what I need, I think."

"Magic instruction from a madman?" he asked, looking skeptical. "And some scepter that only Niza can carry safely? I just have bad feelings about all of this."

"Well I don't," she said pointedly, partly believing it. They got to their rooms and she went inside wondering what had gotten into Ullden. She hadn't seen him look worried before, and hadn't thought he was the type to worry like that.

She gathered her stuff and stepped back outside. He stepped out shortly after her. He wore his sword and armor now, and looked like himself again. They walked to the courtyard without any further conversation.

In the courtyard were a few acolytes, holding the horses or packing the small wagon that was hitched to one of the horses. The Bishop stood nearby with two other priests Jetha hadn't specifically seen before. Father Marus hadn't arrived yet, but Niza stood talking to the Bishop and the priests, looking nervous. Whatever conversation they'd been having ended when Jetha and Ullden approached.

"Good morning!" Bishop Doran greeted them with a smile. "It looks like you have a lovely day to begin your travels on. A blessing from the Gods, to be sure."

Jetha had to admit that it was a beautiful morning. A little bit of dew remaining from the cool night air had been left sprinkled over the grass, sparkling in the morning sunlight. She imagined it would be even more pretty once they left the sanctuary of the church walls and the sun's rays shone more directly onto the longer grasses outside. A few goats seemed to keep the grass shorter in the courtyard as they ambled to and fro bleating quietly and grazing. She found it amusing to realize that even the animals seemed to have a respect for the quiet nature of the church.

She looked up for a moment, seeing that there were only a few wispy clouds drifting lazily across the crisp blue sky. She realized suddenly that it wouldn't be long before the days began getting colder. The thought made her think of Niza, wondering if the girl had enough clothes to keep her warm enough if they were still traveling by winter. They had some time yet, as the leaves were only just changing color, but no one seemed to know how far they would have to go. She kept quiet for the moment, however, remembering that it would be uncharitable to assume that Niza didn't have the appropriate clothing. The girl was currently dressed in pants and a tunic, with worn-looking boots on her feet. The backpack looked as if it had seen better days as well, although all of the items appeared as if they'd been recently mended.

"Yes, it is," she found herself nodding, turning to the Bishop. "Let us hope the weather holds as long as possible."

"These are Father Engel and Father Nichols," the Bishop said, gesturing to each of the priests standing with him. "They have come to see Father Marus off. Most of the others aren't aware yet that he will be leaving us, as we didn't want a large commotion to disrupt poor Alldeh this morning."

Jetha and Ullden both greeted the two priests respectively. Father Engel was, by far, one of the oldest priests she'd ever seen. A part of her was surprised the man was standing there so casually, instead of needing a chair or some other assistance. Father Nichols, by contrast, was one of the younger priests, probably only a couple of years from having achieved the title. Father Nichols whistled, and a look of surprise crossed his face at seeing something behind Jetha. She turned to look, hearing the Bishop and Father Engel chuckling softly at Nichols' response.

Father Marus entered the courtyard looking entirely unlike the priest Jetha had just met the day before. Instead of the long robes that gave no real indication of the man's physical stature, he now wore a complete set of chainmail armor. He had a sword in it's scabbard hanging from his belt, and a sheild that bore the insignia of the four Gods carried in one hand. Behind him, an Acolyte hurried after him with a burden of bags. After that, Alldeh came out, accompanied by a priest and priestess, one at each side, gently guiding him towards the assembled group. Alldeh looked half-asleep, and very confused, blinking his eyes and swinging his head to and fro to take everything in.

Even Father Marus' stride was different, looking more confident. It did not seem to be an arrogant swagger, but it was also not quite the same humble slow walk she had seen from the man so far. She noticed Ullden's skeptically raised eyebrow.

"Have you ever taught anyone how to use a sword before?" she asked him.

"The basics, a few times, and I've helped the occasional partner refine his technique. I think I can keep this guy from hurting himself with it."

"That doesn't sound a very charitable thing to say," she chided gently.

"I'm not a charitable man."

"I don't know that I believe that, Ullden," she said. He just grinned a sly grin briefly.

Alldeh was muttering something as he walked. When he got close enough she heard something about "bigger" before he was helped into the wagon. The acolyte following Father Marus put the bundles in the back of the wagon.

Father Marus suggested they each add some of their own burdens as well. The wagon had a bale of straw set up with a blanket over it as a seat for Alldeh. The inside was partly loaded up with supplies and bundles and looked small to Jetha. She supposed that might be better for Alldeh.

Ullden added a bag to the wagon, and moved one of the bags off of Jetha's horse as well. While Jetha knew which bags on her horse were her own, she was only just starting to learn what was in the other bags her horse had been carrying. Most of it was food and some grain for the horses. She had tried to help Ullden repack the horses after they'd stopped and removed them a couple of times, but it seemed more like she got in the way instead of actually being useful. She was starting to worry that Ullden would think she was more burden than anything else. She wanted to learn how to handle such things herself, but was afraid to admit she didn't know how to do some of the things he did with such ease. They'd always had servants to set up and break down camp when she'd traveled before. Suddenly that fact was starting to be embarassing for her. She didn't want Ullden and the others to just think of her as some child that didn't know how to do anything.

Father Marus stepped over to the Bishop and the other priests and took a few moments to say his farewells. Niza fussed with putting her backpack on the back of the horse she was to ride. Compared to Ullden and Jetha's horses, the small, battered backpack looked lonely tied to the back of the saddle. Jetha realized the girl probably didn't have a bedroll, much less a tent, unless the priests had thought to include something for her. Jetha wondered how they would handle it when it came time to make camp for the night. She decided to wait and see, but resolved to ask the girl to share her own tent, even if she risked hurting her feelings by asking. With Niza being the only girl in the group so far, Jetha really did hope they could find some common ground and be friends. Especially since they were so close in age.

Once Father Marus had finished speaking with the other clergymen, he turned back to the group. The young acolyte who'd carried the bags out for him seemed to have been waiting his turn to say something.

"Couldn't I come with you, Father? I wouldn't get in the way. I could help, I promise!" the young man suddenly pleaded.

"Tomas!" Father Marus exclaimed, seeming surprised. "You're needed here, Tomas. How ever will you finish your training if you leave the church now?"

"It's just..." Tomas trailed off for a moment, looking upset. "You will come back one day, right?"

"This is my home," Marus replied, giving the young man a smile. "I certainly plan to return. I just don't know how long it will be until that day comes. I expect you'll be a priest yourself by then."

Tomas suddenly hugged Father Marus and then stepped back, mumbling an apology.

"Never lose your faith, young Tomas," Marus said, ruffling the acolyte's hair. "Now go on then, back to your chores young man. I must be on my way."

"Yes, Father Marus," Tomas mumbled, nodding. Jetha could see tears welling up in the young man's eyes as he ran off, back towards the buildings. Marus looked after him with a sad look in his eyes. Father Engel stepped forward and put his hand on Marus' shoulder.

"Don't worry, Marus. We'll look after him." Marus looked over at him and the two priests exchanged nods that obviously said much more than Jetha could understand. Then Marus took the driver's seat on the wagon, and Ullden came around to help Jetha into the saddle.

While Jetha really didn't need Ullden's help, but accepted it as a courtesy she was accustomed to being offered, she saw Niza putting her foot into the stirrup so awkwardly that it became immediately clear the girl had never ridden a horse before. Once Jetha was in the saddle, Ullden moved quickly over and he and the Bishop both gave Niza some basic instruction after helping her up onto the horse. The horse itself snorted and shook it's head, aware of the fear of the rider atop it, and Niza's eyes were wide with fear. Jetha gave the girl credit, however, as she listened and nodded to the instructions, her jaw set in determination. In some ways, Jetha felt a little relieved by it, realizing that she wasn't the only one who had things she didn't know how to do for this journey.

Ullden helped to calm both the girl and the horse. It took a couple of minutes, but Niza looked more comfortable in the saddle afterwards. Ullden guided her around the wagon once at a slow walk, patiently teaching her how to sit with the movements of the horse, how to make the horse go, turn, and stop. She was again glad to have him with, and wondered if he would be equally patient with Marus and sword work.

At last all seemed ready. More and more priests and acolytes and students had gathered at the edges of the little courtyard. They stood quietly and humbly watching. Father Marus gestured for Ullden to lead the way.

Ullden shrugged and spurred his horse out the double doors. She followed and turned to watch the wagon just barely pass through, creaking as it rolled. Niza came through last and moved up to ride alongside Father Marus.

There was no fanfare behind them, no cheering, none of the things that always seemed to happen in stories when heroes set off on a quest. The sun was bright and cheery, though. It felt like a proper start.

She hung just a little behind Ullden. On one hand, she wanted to chat with him, but she also didn't want to be pestering him. On the ride to the church he had now and then seemed a little annoyed by her questions. Oh, he tried to hide it, but it was clear to her that he was unaccustomed to much conversation while riding.

Then he stopped and looked off to his left. She stopped, and she heard the wagon creak to a stop. Ullden turned and headed back to the wagon. She followed him, worried about the look on his face.

He was pointing off toward the horizon. "There, see? That's black smoke. It's distant yet, but I've seen it's like before. There's a town over there, isn't there."

"Yes," Father Marus said. "Miller's Cross, it's called. A small crossroads town on a narrow little creek that turns the miller's water wheel."

"It's burning," Ullden said matter-of-factly.

"Then, sadly," Father Marus said with a frown, pointing the opposite direction, "we know which direction to start our travels."

"My thoughts exactly," Ullden said, already turning his horse. "Come, we shouldn't dally. That wagon will slow us enough as it is." He started off and Jetha followed. She looked behind her frequently as the smoke all to slowly fell further behind.

She rehearsed in her mind the fire ball spell she would have ready if another demon winged out of the sky. She kept watching for one, determined not to be caught off guard a second time, but nothing came. They rode through the day, not talking about what could or would be going on behind them. She prayed for the people at the little town and the church behind her. She especially prayed to Ogrun, for the people back there surely deserved his protection.