Fennel’s Hooves clop on the cobblestone as the noon day sun turns my skin red and the top of my head hot. We’ve been riding all day, and my legs are sore, my body not used to riding for so long. My hands feel twitchy, and my mind is frayed, I’m going to have to find a place and stop to rest before I just scream.

“Come on Fennel,” I say, these are the first words I’ve spoken since leaving Tyra, my voice comes out sticky and deep, so I clear my throat. “Let’s find somewhere to stop.”

I begin looking around, searching for a bit of shade, a creek, or anything. There are some trees, but they’re in the midst of thick underbrush, but up ahead I see the perfect place. A small creek with some trees and what looks to be some soft green grass.

Fennel and I head that way, and when we finally stop, I struggle getting out of the saddle, but when my feet hit the ground my legs shake, and I have to hold on to Fennel to keep from falling. He snorts and nuzzles against me.

“Thanks pal,” I say giving him a pat then hobble down to the creek. I’m so hot and sweaty and tired, that when I kneel at the edge of the creek, I just dunk my head in the water. It feels so good and refreshing I almost want to cry.

I come up for air, breathing hard, and sit there, my hair dripping water. I find myself staring at my rippling reflection. Maybe I’m just being dramatic, maybe its all the emotion and stress, but looking at the girl in the water I don’t know who she is. She’s like a stranger to me.

I run a hand through my hair, brushing it back behind my ears. Taking a deep breath I ponder my next move. I could obviously keep going, but I’m feeling exhausted. As hot as it is, maybe it’s best I take a short rest, no sense in killing myself at the beginning of my dream journey.

“Nap it is,” I decide, and go back to Fennel, curling up under the tree and closing my eyes.

As soon as the darkness closes in I find myself falling into a dream. My home, burning, the silhouettes of Mom, Dad, and-

My sister looms over me, her eyes glowing flame.

“Why’d you leave me to die?” Lyra asks in a resounding voice, “Why did you leave me to die?”

“I didn’t!” I scream back at her, “I didn’t!”

But I did.

I wake up gasping for breath. It’s hot, so hot. My clothes are sticky with sweat, and as a feeling of panic begins to grow I can’t help but jump to my feet and rush towards the creek.

I’m not thinking as I peel the dress off of my body and toss it aside then jump into the water. The water is cold and refreshing so I curl up into a little ball, resting my chin on my knees and letting the current soothe me, washing all my worries away.

The problem was I did leave them behind. I left them behind so that I could be what, a knight for the North Kingdom? Fayr, the odds of me making it to a kingdom I don’t even know how to get to with a war growing behind me are nearly impossible.

Could have told him, could have told Hastings to leave and the bandits would have chased him somewhere else. They wouldn’t have bothered me or my family.

I curl up tighter, taking deep breaths.

“We really do need to stop meeting like this,” a voice says from behind. I turn around slowly and find myself looking up at the girl with the blackberry colored hair. Amelia Faust. I haven’t seen her since I left the bath, and with everything going on I’d almost forgotten about her.

Her crystal flower tattoo gleamed brightly in the sun as she knelt and brushed her hair back over her ear.

“What are you doing out here… Abigale was it?”

“Yeah, yeah that was it,” I nod, and scoot my body around to face her. I wasn’t as nervous her seeing me like this, not after of our little bath experience. “I’m uh… I’m traveling to the North Kingdom.”

“North Kingdom,” Amelia’s brow furrows, “quite a few leagues away.”

“I have to deliver a message,” I explain, “I have to tell them that a war is coming.”

“War?” She asks confused, “how did you come by that information?”

“Ranger, from the North kingdom…” I say, my eyes drifting away from hers as I tell her my story. As she listened, she took off her boots and rolled her pants up so she could stick her feet in the water.

When I was done, I had to take more deep breaths, my hands were shaking under the water, and not from the cold.

“You’re just a farm girl,” Amelia said, almost as if to herself. “If what you say is true, then there is a resistance building against the empire, and that’s not good. Do you know if any other rangers survived?”

“No, I don’t know anything other than what Hastings told me.”

“I ask because I want to think that someone else knows about the ranger battalion. I’m sure their disappearance will be noticed, but not for a couple of weeks.” Amelia stands up and goes to her horse, reaching into one of the saddlebags and pulling something out. “The resistance won’t be able to keep their victory a secret, they’ll use it to recruit more to their cause. They’ll gloat. It’ll cause rumors.”

“Are you saying that they’ll find out before we get there?”

“No, not necessarily. Until you show up it’ll all be rumors.” She offers me a towel, and I stand up to accept it, wrapping it around me. “You’ve got the only concrete testimony. Before any of that though, I’m… I’m sorry about your family. You had anything to eat?”

I shake my head, and she gestures me to follow her.

“Come on, let me get you something to eat.”

I go and get Fennel from under his tree and follow Amelia to another shady tree where she’s got a few other bags bundled up.

“You have any idea how to get to the North Kingdom?” She asks, glancing back at me as she sifts through another one of her bags.

I shake my head.

“You don’t have much of a plan, do you?”

“No,” I admit, “For the longest time it’s all I wanted, but now it’s the only thing I can do.”

She offers me a wedge of cheese and some tough, but tasty bread. I look at it for a moment, then begin to devour it. I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was.

I catch sight of Amelia rubbing at her eyes and stroking her chin. “This is serious isn’t it?” She asks after a moment of thought.

“My family is a pile of ashes,” I say with a swallow. “I wouldn’t make this up. This Hastings guy, he was a ranger, I saw his pin, and he thought the threat was serious enough to send me on this mission.”

“Why did he send you?” She asked looking at me with a flat gaze, her friendly demeanor gone. “Why you? Some farm girl?”

“He said I was like him,” I answer, blinking to keep my vision blurry. “Because this is all I’ve ever fayring wanted. I’ve been dreaming of being a knight in the North since I could walk, and… I uh, I kinda got what I wanted.”

“Well,” Amelia says, her expression softened. “You’re not a knight yet.”

“Yet,” I say with a hesitant smile and go back to chewing on the tough bread. Amelia starts loading her horse back up.

“Hurry up and eat,” she says, “we got a good way to go before we reach the next town.”

“We, wait, what…” I choke on my bread. “I can’t ask you…”

“You didn’t have to,” She answers with a smile, “it would be against my oaths as a magician of Alkania to come across a mission that is vitally important, and not help. You can’t get to Alkania on your own, no offense, but a farm girl’s got a lot to learn out here.”

I finish off the bread and cheese and grab Fennel, hopping up onto the saddle, my thighs and butt aching and causing me to wince. “Yeah…” I groan, “a lot to learn.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she laughs and together we start riding down the road once more, the blinding light shining down on us once more.

“So, where are we going now?” I ask, spurring Fennel forward so that we’re riding side by side. Amelia raises her arm and points in the distance towards a tall hill.

“Just past that hill is the next town, and if I recall correctly there happens to be a certain individual who might be able to help us.”

“And who could that be?” I ask curiously. I can’t help but wonder if she’s trying to build a party, like in the stories. A group of heroes to carry out a dangerous mission. I realize I’m already in the company of a relative to the queen of Alkania, and she’s a magician no less. Maybe she knows another hero, someone like her with extraordinary training, or skills.

Instead of giving me his name she just smiles at me, as if she could tell what I was thinking. “He’s a writer.”