Pollyanna, Eory, and Kori made camp that night in the forest amongst the pine trees on the side of the road. Pollyanna retreated into her thoughts while sharpening her blade on a whetting stone. She was severely disappointed in her charge. He was a mewling coward, and a blight upon his family’s magnificent dynasty. The idea of having to protect such a weakling was so unappealing to her that she was tempted to disobey an order and let herself die.

Alas, I am not a quitter. I owe it to you too, Fjorn, to protect him. He still has your blood, after all. I just have to awaken the magic inside him somehow. That will make him a respectable threat, as you were.

Pollyanna looked over at Eory, who was shivering and holding his bug-eyed dog in his lap, with Kori on the other side of the fire. Kori asked, “Shall I tell you the story of how I gained my powers?”

Eory was unsure. He wanted to hear about Pollyanna, but she was sitting right there. It would be strange to ask Kori for a story about her. Eory nodded. “Please tell me.”

Kori took a moment to think about how she wanted to tell the story, and began only when she was sure that she had a good hook.

“I was sent on a journey to a holy mountain just north of Trella—the land of the waifs—at the age of twelve. If waifs are born with the gift of magic, it will be awakened somewhere on that mountain through a spiritual vision. Mine was spectacular. I found a butterfly flying around on that barren and craggy mountain after starving for three days. It was turquoise and sparkling, and I chased it until I caught it, and it brought me into the Dream World. I saw… I saw my secret desires, and those desires triggered the magic in my soul.” Kori said sleepily.

Eory had never heard this story before; Kori had never told him one about herself. He decided he liked it very much, but.. it was somewhat soured by the fact that she probably only told her one about herself because she didn’t want him thinking well of Pollyanna anymore.

__

Pollyanna kept watch while Eory and Kori both slept. During this time, she wondered why Eory didn’t just send her away. He knew that he could, and yet he didn’t. He seemed fearful of her and yet… The way he looked at her made her stomach churn.

Pollyanna glanced at the waif, wishing she could kill her. She even unsheathed her blade, but even just trying to move her legs toward the wrinkled creature squeezed her heart with pain.

Suddenly, Eory’s eyes fluttered open. He sat up. He smoothed his hair back, looking around. When he saw Pollyanna was still up, he queried, “Y-you should get some sleep… Aren’t you tired?”

Pollyanna looked up at the sky. “A sword has no reason to sleep."

After a moment, she said, "Why haven’t you sent me away? You know I have to obey your orders or else I will die—so why don’t you give me the order to leave you alone forever?”

Eory knew the reason. He was hopelessly in love with her. He wanted her nearby—even if she was just going to intimidate him and Kori. He couldn’t tell the woman sitting in front of him apart from the legendary woman who Kori had told him stories about--the woman who enthralled him.

Her earlier actions--how she killed their entourage of thirty soldiers--oozed at the back of his head, threatening to overcome his pristine vision of her, but he managed to prevent it from spreading.

“I want you around in case I need you.” Eory lied. “People... probably don’t like me very much because of my heritage. If they attack me, you can protect me.” Eory said as he hugged his stomach for warmth.

Pollyanna sighed, taking pity on him. “Come here.”

Eory froze in terror for a moment. He knew that if she tried to kill him, it would result in her own death, but that didn't stop him from being scared of her due to the niggling fear in the back of his mind. Nevertheless, he couldn't pass at the chance of sitting near by the woman of his dreams. He trudged through the snowfall, and sat by Pollyanna.

She draped her cloak over his shoulders. He smiled at her silently.

Pollyanna couldn’t help it; a smile dawned on her own face.

Pathetic. Why don’t you just order her to kiss you? You don't need to earn her love. The woman’s disgusted voice resounded in his head.