Wilpen had avoided Porlifi’s room with the intent of not wanting to cause further distress to the patient. Wilpen could only imagine what was going on in that young woman’s mind. But didn’t stop Wilpen from occasionally walking up the girl’s door to listen in for anything concerning.

Perhaps Wilpen had been too loud when sneaking around Porlifi’s door because the next time she did it, there was a paper waiting for her at the door. Wilpen picked it up and read it:

Greetings, Wilpen.

Surely you sound worried about my current disposition, but worry not. I understand I am still recovering and you all are concerned about my identity. For now, I can only confirm that I am indeed someone who should be feared. It was my power and potential that led to how you met me.

However, much like you and your company, I’m afraid even I am unaware of what has occurred to me. All I can confirm is the suspicion of horrifying and traumatic events that were erased from my mind, but still hold a grasp on my conscience. I fear the day when I am to recall these events and will no longer be safe in the hands of ignorance.

Signed, Porlifi

Wilpen read over the letter several times as tears overflowed down to her chin. She slapped her hand over her mouth to silence her cries. She sympathized with the young woman who knew close to nothing about herself as her memories were locked away to protect herself.

Wilpen carefully folded the letter and slid it behind her apron in the small pocket, then made her way to the smithy.

The walk didn’t take long, for Wilpen was seething with rage. The anger she felt for the boys at that moment outweighed the trek it took to get to the smithy. She slammed open the door to the smithy to see the young man she needed to see who was crouched over a smithing block and hammer in hand. The heat from the room that escaped through windows wasn’t ventilated enough and the heat almost consumed Wilpen. 

“You,” was all Wilpen said as she stepped up to the boy and handed him the very letter she kept in her pocket.

Japlir, for the first time feared Wilpen, and quickly set down his tools and opened the letter. He read it to himself then back to Wilpen. A sense of guilt began to eat at his conscience but the unease of believing the woman overpowered it.

“Wilpen…,” Japlir began with a sigh. “This could be pretty words on some silly paper. The words she writes can be pathetic lies meant to lower your guard. I know how you feel, but I won’t stop being suspicious of Porlifi.”

Wilpen snatched the letter from Japlir’s hands and stuffed it back in her apron as she seethed with rage. “You have some nerve, Japlir. How can you be so hypocritical?”

She opened her arms wide and asked, “Care to explain the sudden need to expand your armory?”

The walls were lined with countless swords and other weapons that varied sizes, as if each weapon was made for a person in mind. If anyone else were to enter the smithy, it wouldn’t take a genius to connect the dots of a large event that was soon to come.

“Why are you so urgent on creating so many weapons? Where are you getting all these materials to make these? You and I both know that neither of us can afford the amount of metals and materials needed to make all these weapons. Who is supplying you with these metals, Japlir? What is going on?”

Japlir said nothing but sighed as he took a seat on a nearby stool. He wiped the soot and sweat off his face with the cloth hanging on his apron.

“We don’t want to get you involved, so I can’t tell you everything. But what I can say is that the people are tired,” Japlir answered. “We know that what we’re doing is dangerous but this is for the better good. For the people.”

Wilpen grew even more confused than before, if that was even possible. Just who were we? And what are they going to do? Despite this, Wilpen turned and walked out.

“Sort yourself out before you come back to my inn,” was all Wilpen said as she left.

Japlir stood alone in his smithy, surrounded by blades and armor of all kinds, with the oven firing a constant blast of heat. And yet, he felt colder than ever.

Wilpen, after storming off from the smithy, she charged back into her Inn. She closed up shop and began her search for Porlifi. She wasn’t sure where she would start, but the first place to look would be the place where she found the poor, younger woman.

Wilpen waved at the people passing by who greeted her. She thought about asking for their help, but the warning the doctor gave her flashed in her memory.

“She is an unusual mage and I suggest not telling the whole world about her existence here.”

Wilpen knew she would endanger the girl by asking for her whereabouts, but the thought of it was tempting. She wanted to find her d—. Wilpen froze. Was she truly going to call Porlifi her…daughter? Is that how she felt about the girl now? Did months of caring for the girl bring out the motherly affection she once had?

Wilpen stood there thinking. She was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear the people who greeted her as they passed by, nor see the waves of the people. 

Her hand slowly reached her mouth in shock as she thought, Do I really consider myself a mother to Porlifi? How inconsiderate of her own mother…

A hand rested on Wilpen’s shoulder and she finally broke from her thoughts to see Doctor Ivors. “Someone called me over to check on you, how are you feeling?”

Wilpen shoved him away and handed him the letter. “Don’t come anywhere near my inn until you sort things out with Porlifi.”

The doctor carefully unfolded the letter and read over the messy handwriting. He raised a brow and asked, “She left?”

“Yes! And I don’t know where to look!” Wilpen cried out but lowered her voice upon seeing the people nearby looking at her with concern.

“Have you checked the place where you first found her?”

“I was just about to when—… nevermind. I’ll look for her myself,” Wilpen said and avoided touching Doctor Ivors as she passed by him.

“I’ll help you look in my free time. Take care of yourself, Miss Wilpen,” he said as he bowed his head before leaving.

In an annoyed rage, she continued walking to the place where she first found Porlifi. Wilpen completely forgot about her previous worries, and focused solely on Porlifi. She had first found the poor thing resting within a flurry of bushes not too far from the Empire’s fences. 

The Empire has a total of three circular fences: one separating the castle from the nobles, the nobles from the commoners, and the commoners from the peasants. The people who live among the peasants is where Wilpen’s inn lies and everyone she knows.

Not once has she ever gone beyond the peasant gates, but she often found herself walking along them. Listening to the busy lives of those she will never meet on the other side. Wondering how different they are from her.

Porlifi was sat within the bushes in range of the peasant gates. The beaten, bruised and amputated Porlifi was similar to that of a tossed out doll. Wilpen only managed to see Porlifi when the wind had blown harsher for a split second, sending her dress billowing towards the bushes. Said bushes spread apart momentarily to reveal only a glimpse of Porlifi.

At first, Wilpen thought Porlifi was actually a broken doll abandoned by a child. But the closer she had gotten, came the realization that this was a person. A person who needed help. So Wilpen returned to the inn with the elder in her embrace.

Now, Wilpen hoped that Porlifi would be in that same spot. Hoped that Porlifi hadn’t given up or returned to that state once more. She wished she could return to the inn with Porlifi in her arms again.

She felt her job wasn’t done–whatever that job was.

Wilpen felt her heart pound in her chest the closer she got to the gates. The gates grew larger with each step she took until she found herself standing before them. They were tall, more than twice her height, and loomed over her like a predator. Never in her 43 years of living had she ever feared the gates as much as she did in that moment.

Almost like a warning, the voices on the other side no longer sounded happy and carefree. They released an energy that dared her to get closer or continue her search for Porlifi. Wilpen shook off the warning and hugged herself as she avoided looking at the fence.

She hurried, picking up the pace, as she walked beside the fence. She kept her eyes at the houses and bushes she passed by, anything to keep her attention off the walls. –Anything to keep the eerie feeling at bay.

Wilpen hugged herself, shivering from the cold or her fear, she wasn’t sure. Each step she took, she tried to remember everything that happened moments before finding Porlifi. What was she thinking? What was she aiming for? How did she feel seeing Porlifi abandoned in that bush?

Then more questions arose. Questions in which she tried to ignore, despite the slight tugging at her back, like a child that didn’t know the meaning of patience.

Why was Porlifi there? How did she get there? What did she do to get into that state? Who put her there? Where did she come from? Was it really a coincidence that Wilpen met the poor soul? Was this meant to happen?

Wilpen froze where she stood. Looking up, she saw it. The lone woman standing before a bush with an indescribable expression on her face. Was it regret? –pity? –anger? Only the woman in question would know.

“Porlifi…” Wilpen let out in a low whisper, as if shocked to see Porlifi standing there. Like she didn’t hope the younger wouldn’t have returned to her reset.

Porlifi’s head rose to look at Wilpen and that expression was long gone. An uncertain smile crawled on Porlifi’s face paired with matching furrowed brows.

“I didn’t know where to go…” Porlifi admitted ashamed as she looked back at the bush.

Wilpen fought the frozen state that planted her feet to the ground she stood before, and rushed to hug Porlifi. She embraced Porlifi with all the emotions she carried in her body, hoping it would keep the younger from leaving again.

“You are always welcome at the Cozy Inn… I don’t care what they say, you are no different than any other person who has walked through my doors.” Wilpen assured Porlifi in a soft voice like that of a whisper, speaking carefully to not spook the damaged soul.

“I’m so sorry they made you feel like this, and even if they won’t ever mutter these words to you. I will do it for them…” Wilpen continued and inhaled a shaky breath. A single tear escaped and slowly ran down her cheek, meeting with Porlifi’s shoulder. “I apologize on their behalf, Porlifi.”