They talked well into the night, the wine loosening their tongues. When they fell asleep it was close to each other, lulled by the drowsiness of alcohol. The days past in a blur as they settled into a strange routine: discussing customs and language lessons over a small breakfast, sparring and exchanging different fighting styles after and long personal conversations in the evenings. One evening a few crewmen joined them in merriment. At the end of that night Illinfer hand danced the dance of swords, impressing the crewmen and captain with her controlled and swift movements. Then they all sang drunkenly, teaching each other different songs. Although Illinfer felt right at home with the crew they still kept wary of Rhoynar. His noble status discouraged some from challenging him the way they did the warrior. She however had other plans and made him dance with her - well, swaying with her, laughing, as it was well into the night.

A few days later they reached Juhad. The climate had gotten warmer, making them change into more appropriate clothing, preparing to leave the ship. Illinfer stood at deck, Rhoynar beside her, both staring at the huge city coming into view. As it grew closer the soft sounds of the sea were replaced with bustling liveliness and yelling. Around them the crew bustled past. Soon they said their goodbyes and left the ship to step foot into the next chapter of their journey.

[hr]
Illinfer stood on the pier, looking at the strange mass of people milling about. They men wore some sort of short dress, reaching to the middle of their thighs with open shoes that left their toes poking out. The women wore draped fabric, wrapping around their bodies in different manners. Awestruck the warrior stood there until Rhoynar nudged her shoulder with his and motioned her to follow. Overwhelmed by the spice filled air, the strange sounds of a foreign language surrounding her and the unfamiliar buildings she soon found herself unable to move. When he noticed the noble doubled back with a soft curse and pulled at the northern woman, grabbing her arm in an iron grip to pull her along.
He led them to a tavern just by the market, weaving in and out of the crowd. Finally he shepherded Illinfer into the small room he‘d booked for them in passing. She came from her stupor when she was pushed onto a bed. He‘d said something, hadn‘t he? „Sire.... I do not understand.“ But before she could ask any further questions he had left the room. Was he mumbling about food? Irritated, she pulled off her shoes and leaned back against the wall, legs tucked close to her body. The bed wasn‘t big so she almost occupied the entire space of it. Her thoughts drifted to their mission. A lot had happened this past week. She thought back on it.

She‘d been summoned by the guild to an audience with Lord Ilyn Grey, a council member to the King of Illium. She was to protect Rhoynar and help him retrieve a scroll of some importance to the crown. They‘d left the capital that day, happening upon an old friend of hers who woke unsettling memories. On their journey they had witnessed the Jakathra Plague, keeping a wide berth from those infected. It had made her spine crawl, thinking it was so close to the capital. They had then arrived in Astipor, at her travel companion's manor of all places. She‘d snuck out of the manor to make preparations - protection for Rhoynars family. He‘d been so afraid! And didn‘t she understand. The bargain she‘d struck could damage her reputation, but she hadn‘t cared and still didn‘t. The next day she was introduced to the people she had made those arrangements for. They were kind and knowledgeable. As thanks for her help Rhoynar had embraced her. He‘d been too close! It still made her feel uncomfortable and sent a shiver down her spine. She could still feel his fingertips lingering on her neck. Lifting her hand to her neck now, the bruises had turned a yellow and dark purple, slowly healing. Why had he touched her so intimately? Or was it perhaps just from a knight to a wounded warrior? It hadn‘t felt that way. But perhaps that had been her imagination. On their boat trip they were close throughout the days and he‘d never invaded her personal space as he had that day.
Had so much really happened in so little time? They‘d known each other for a week! It felt longer, thanks to the long conversations they‘d had on board. Thankfully he‘d taught her a few customs and some basic language. She had understood a few snippets of conversations in passing but had been too shocked and overwhelmed to actually piece anything together.

Now that she thought about it she felt a lot calmer. Nonetheless she moved with lighting speed and had her sword half drawn when the door swung open and Rhoynar appeared. With a huff she sheathed her sword. „You frighten me, sire.“ She mumbled, breathing deeply to quiet her heart. It would take a bit for her to get used to being so far from home.