The sun had dropped to the horizon, bathing the land in a majestic crimson. Freya paused in her travels long enough to enjoy the beauty of the sunset. Everything around her was washed with red. [i]With flames.[/i] An uneasiness swept over Freya as she stood there. The woman pulled her staff close and cast her eyes about. These were the plains--open farmland in every direction. Nobody could be sneaking up on her, especially not on the raised highway. The feeling she had wasn’t one of personal danger, either; nevertheless, casting one last look at the dipping sun, Freya felt something [i]off.[/i] Different. That there was a change. [color=ccffcc][i]’If I don’t hurry, I won’t reach Euford before full dark.’[/i][/color] Willing herself forward, Freya resumed her journey. Whatever her premonition was, the Flow would show her in time. * * * * * * * The wall came into view just as twilight enveloped the road. Freya approached the city guard with a wave. When she drew near enough to make out the men’s faces, she broke into a beaming smile. [color=ccffcc]“Dirk! And Halden, too! What is the foreman thinking, letting a pair of slackers work the same shift?”[/color] “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Dirk countered, crossing toned arms over his chest. “I work more hours than any other guard in Euford--no, in the whole of Adelon!” “Punishment hours don’t count,” Halden interjected. [color=ccffcc]“Uh-oh,”[/color] Freya muttered in sympathy. [color=ccffcc]”Don’t tell me the viceroy found out that you and his daughter-”[/color] “SSSHHHHH!” Dirk hissed desperately. He cast a wary eye at his companion--Halden was looking away and whistling, pretending he didn’t know exactly what was going on--then wrapped an arm around Freya’s shoulders and turned her to the side of the road. “I’ve told you a thousand times, she came on to me! And nothing like [i]that[/i] happened, so stop saying weird things!” Freya giggled quietly. [color=ccffcc]”I know, I know. I’m sorry. But you did want to chase after her, right?”[/color] Color tinted Dirk’s cheeks, so he turned his head away to try to hide it. “Yeah,” he answered at length. “As soon as I’m strong enough. That’s why I’m working all these extra hours! Foreman keeps catching me training-” he tried to shut himself up, but it was too late. [color=ccffcc]”...in ‘disturbances of the peace’ I assume?”[/color] She had enough heart not to call it bar brawling. “Heh. Sometimes it’s better for public peace, y’know? Give a couple of these transient troublemakers a good smack, they behave the rest of their stay. Last week we had this crazy guy from out of town trying to tell people how magi can be virtuous! If you let looneys like that run loose, nothin’ but trouble will come.” Freya felt her shoulders tense, so she immediately spun out of Dirk’s grip before he could notice her reaction. She met gazes with Halden. She didn’t know what face she was wearing right then, but she was terrified it might give away her disgust. Thankfully, Halden simply averted his gaze, going back to watching the dim road. She willed herself back to calm. [color=ccffcc]“If we let crazies like you run loose, we’ll have even more trouble!”[/color] Freya jabbed with a forced giggle. Dirk took mock offense, protesting her unjust portrayal of his heroics. She quickly bade the pair farewell after that, hurrying into the town as night descended. She made her way toward the tavern, knowing Grumpy would have a bed available. Visitors stopping overnight were rare out here--that alone made a group standing in the square a curiosity. They became a full-blown novelty when Freya recognized what each of them were. A Muran child wearing what looked to be Demacite-powered gauntlets was the first to catch her eye. Nearby stood a young man in haggered dress, ready for battle; he must be the young master’s bodyguard. A Ydran woman was present, though noticeably detached from the Murans. Freya could guess their distaste for anyone of another race; it was likely they hired her for her survival skills and avoided interacting with her as much as possible. And at the center was a small- Ice flowed down Freya’s spine even as sweat appeared on her brow. At the center was Amuné. Disheveled, dirty, and thinner than ever, but it was certainly the small girl Freya would see clinging to her mother, Ma’am Amira. Just as panic swept in, Freya’s eyes caught sight of Wyth standing faithfully next to her. He was at ease--or at least, not aggressive--so she could logically conclude that there was no immediate danger to the girl. But logic can only do so much against emotion. Freya stepped forward, catching the final edge of what the young master was saying. “...to get a map and get going…” [color=ccffcc]“Going where, young master?”[/color] Freya called as she came out of the shadows. Her staff was gripped tightly in her right hand, and her face was set in a cold glare. [color=ccffcc]“The sun is gone for today, and travel after dark is unsafe--now more than ever. Surely you aren’t thinking of bringing that girl out into peril?”[/color] She kept her voice level, but the words were hard and pointed. Her eyes rose to meet those of the wealthy child’s bodyguard--the white-haired Muran. [color=ccffcc]“Why do you have that girl with you? Shouldn’t she be with her parents?”[/color] The accusation wasn't blatant, but it was present. She hadn't taken her pack off, so Freya hoped it wouldn't come to a fight. The guard were close by, but... Amuné was closer. Her prayer was for a peaceful surrender, though she had yet to meet a villain who would.