The answer she received was not what she had in mind. Ysabel had always known that she was different even before her unique talent manifested, but what he told her was just unbelievable she had to put an effort not to laugh. And yet, part of her wanted to believe what he said, if only because she had no idea why she was different, but the gods were dead. The kings and queens who built Andor, Horngul, and their neighbors were as dead as the gods. This was a new age, where magic did not exist. 

Still, she was different. 

The man who bought her from her parents was named Adranus. He was a man of questionable character, who ran his little criminal empire in the heart of Bolavo. He was also the man who raised Ysabel to believing that it was for her good that she kept her talent a secret and refrain from asking questions about it. 

Stories of gods’ kings and queens were not very popular in Horngul. She had heard some, but as a rational adult, didn’t take it into heart. Now, this man was implying that she might just be one of the legendary people who ruled the continent. 

She let her hand fall to her side and kept her face a blank mask protecting her emotions. “The gods are dead,” she whispered with less conviction that she would have wanted. What he told her was impossible. She needed to get out of the fortress to protect her secret and prevent these people from turning her into a slave as Adranus had once warned her. 

Ysabel turned away and grabbed her belongings. She was putting her boots on when she heard the door crack open and a familiar voice greeted them. “Ah, I see you have asked our guest to dress herself. Good thinking, Roran,” Derrin said. He was standing on the doorway, carrying a tray and was smiling at her. A smile that chilled her blood colder than the mountain did. She looked from the older man to Roran then back. Their escape plan was compromised, but she wondered whether or not he had been standing by the door all along.

“I have brought food,” he declared, stepping into the room. The scent of soup and freshly made bread wafted in the small room. In response, her stomach grumbled and she almost forgot that she should be running by then and not fantasizing on the taste of the food on the tray. “These are all for her, Roran, you hear me? If you are hungry, you may eat with the rest of us, but these are all for the girl.” His tone held warning, but it was difficult to think ill of Derrin with his eyes so soft and his smile as warm as the food he placed on the table.

**No major plans, just food :)