To call this a train station would have been too generous. The cracked platform that they had stepped onto was shorter than the entire length of their train and barely three meters wide; a tiny, lone cabin for the station master stood at the other end. It was empty. As was the rest of the station. No one else had gotten off here, and it wasn’t hard to imagine why. The image that greeted them was as uninviting as it was sobering. The station was situated at the top of a small, flat hill and it gave them a good view of the bleak-looking town stretching before them. A canopy of rust-colored roofs punctuated here and there by rickety prayhouse towers. Everything was in shades of brown or gray, and it matched the dreariness of the overcast late autumn sky. The few crows swirling overhead - their harsh caws though loud and piercing somehow accentuating the silence -  completed the picture of a desolated Podunk town at the arse-end of nowhere. If only this were as bad as it got.

“This doesn’t look so bad,” Nelle breathed.

“I’m sure the people of Pelase would be happy to hear you say that.”

Nelle turned to look at him in confusion. “Pelase? You mean this isn’t -” She reached into the pocket of her overcoat and retrieved a neatly folded paper map. She opened it only enough to look at their location, eyes quickly finding the name written sloppily in bright, red ink next to the printed one that marked Pelase. “It should be the next town over. We got off at the wrong station.”                          

“I’m afraid not. Whoever wrote down Runrick so close to Pelase on your map has obviously never been around here. And trust me, Runrick is nowhere near as pretty as this. No railroad leads to that shithole.”      

She stared at him, wide-eyed, then looked back at the ratty little town, probably trying to imagine something worse and unable to. He didn’t blame her. Under any other circumstance he, too, would’ve rather chained himself to a cliff than accept an assignment that would take him so far from civilization. And he spent the better part of his childhood here. Nelle was born and raised in the capital. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had never even seen a cow before, much less smelled its dung.

He flung his travel pack over his left shoulder and bent down to pick up hers as well. Startled, she quickly grabbed her bag before he could touch it, shot him a curt “I’m fine, thank you!” and scurried ahead without looking back. Working with her will be so much fun. With that solemn thought he followed suit, albeit at a much lazier pace.

He caught up easily enough, the hillside gravel road leading into town proving to be a bigger challenge for Nelle’s pavement-crafted legs. Idly he wondered how another offer to take her luggage would be received, then realized he intended to word it as patronizingly as possible, so the outcome could only be one. Getting under people’s skin was a favorite past time of his, but Nelle was proving to be surprisingly unamusing when irritated. He decided he preferred the silence but loitered behind just in case her flimsy legs failed her. He would want front row view for that.

It took them an hour and an absurd amount of money to find a coachman willing to take them even near Runrick. And by near, he meant a good hour-and-a-half on foot from where he left them. The wooden sign next to the crossroad where they had been dropped off was chipped and the paint no longer readable, but it still pointed dutifully towards the path they had to take. Before them lay a dirt road, just wide enough for one carriage, that  cut through a tiny stretch of grassland before it got swallowed up by the forest.

Luric dared a glance at his companion. The long journey had obviously left its mark on her poise. When he met Nelle just a few days ago in Lord Ashladd’s office, the very first thing he noticed about the woman was her prim and proper appearance. Nothing else about her stood out. She wasn’t anything noteworthy as far as beauty went; a simple bowl cut framing a fairly insipid-looking face with a pair of emotionless, dark, gray eyes staring back at him from underneath blunt bangs. It was obvious that she cared about her appearance though, not because of vanity, since there was nothing cosmetic to be found on her, but because of decorum. There was not one hair out of place, eyebrows were expertly plucked and even, clothes clean, ironed, and befitting an employee of his Majesty’s Institute. Now, her neatly combed blond hair was slightly disheveled, her attire wrinkled and flecked with mud. She looked tired and weary, as well as a little unsure when she gazed into the dark shadows of the forest they now had to enter. Nelle must have sensed his eyes on her, because she suddenly drew herself up, fastened her hold on her luggage, and pressed on.

Thankfully, the road snaked around the hills instead of over them, keeping their hike on even ground, but the muddy, bumpy path proved to be too much for Nelle either way, and she soon fell behind. Luric was trying to slow his step without it seeming deliberate, but even he was starting to lose his patience. He was almost completely caked in mud beneath the knees, and that pissed him off far more than it should. He cared about his looks too, though in his case it was about vanity. He liked looking good and important. Especially now. Especially here.

It was well past sunset before they even caught a glimpse of lights in the distance. The wind had picked up as the darkness fell, blowing dust and dry leaves in their faces. The clouds had looked heavy with rain for most of their journey from Pelase and it seemed like the downpour was ready to start.

Nelle was now several steps behind him, staggering against the gale. She was walking hunched, face half buried in the collar of her coat and eyes scrunched up to slits, trying to shield them from the biting wind. He almost felt sorry for her. It was obvious that she had tried to prepare for this journey, judging from her thick coat and long boots, but her choice in clothing still spoke loudly of the inexperience of someone born and bred in a southern city. Around here, a woolen coat alone didn’t cut it. Boots didn’t have to be just long, but also warm and impervious. She hadn’t thought to bring a scarf either, probably thinking the roll-neck pullover and collar of her coat would be enough. It would’ve been, for the mellow winters of the capital, but a north-born would’ve known to choose something with a fur cowl. Would’ve known to choose fur instead of any other material.

On the other hand, Luric was north-born, knew what to expect coming here, and still dressed as if going for a stroll through the park on a drizzly day. His long, black cashmere mantle adorned with a loose shoulder cape of the same material provided barely any protection against the harsh weather. But he didn’t need it to. He could withstand the cold on his own; his clothes served another purpose. Until the rain began he wouldn’t even bother to pull up his hood, the wind having messed up his hair enough already. Something else he was slightly annoyed with.

Another strong gust blew over them, the loud howl joining in with the cacophony of rustling leaves. From somewhere behind, them a low branch broke off and fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and with that sudden sound, the last remnant of Nelle’s composure finally snapped. She let out a terrified cry as she whirled around, hastily dropping her luggage in case she needed to run from whatever her imagination was telling her had caused that noise. She tripped and fell backwards on her behind, eyes still frantically searching the darkness. Earlier, he would have found the sight amusing, maybe would’ve made a joke at her expense, but as he was running dry on patience himself, he found it pitiful instead.

He casually sauntered over to her and picked up her bag, confident there would be no objections this time.

“There’s nothing there. I would’ve known if there was,” he said calmly.

She looked up at him over her shoulder, still shaky and scared, but the words seemed to have registered. He turned around and continued, walking past the scattered brief case that she had been carrying alongside her duffle bag. He knew better than to even attempt to reach for that. He knew exactly what its contents were and it was a weight she could still carry herself.

It wasn’t long before he heard Nelle’s hurried steps behind him, struggling to keep up and stay close to him. He didn’t slow down this time.