On an early morning, Ma'an set out to leave. 

It had been five nights since that cold storm in which Yorell found him. 

He had spent the days preparing for his further journey. He used Yorell’s books to plan his route. It was not difficult, for his only goal was going north. 

The maps did not show many obstacles, except for a broad river across Doku. 

Ma’an preferred to avoid large settlements, so he eventually wanted to turn to the northwest in order to avoid the cities at the coast. He copied some of the maps and named places himself. 

Yorell urged him to take a new blanket and a better water bottle, to which he complied. 

Ma’an looked significantly better, and the wound in his side had stopped hurting so much. 

He still wasn’t back to his old self, but that would never happen again anyway. His journey had been too long already. 

He had changed back into his old, now repaired raiment. 

Yorell wanted him to accept the new clothes for he had worn these old ones for way too long, but Ma’an refused. He wished to keep some of himself intact. 

・・・

Yorell was cleaning up after breakfast when Ma’an came to him.

'I am leaving now, though I'm sure you know that,' Ma'an said. He still spoke in his Ancient Tongue, but he had come to understand Yorell's Dokian quite well.

'Yes, I do. Do you have everything you need?' Yorell asked.

'You have provided more than I could ask for. Is there any way I can properly thank you?' Ma'an appealed as he bowed. 

‘No, Ma’an, I do not need thanks. I’m glad that I could help.’ 

Ma’an tilted his head. ‘...You do have something on your mind.’

Yorell took a deep breath before saying quietly: ‘There is one thing… I'm not sure if I am allowed to ask.'

'You may ask anything of me, Yorell. After all, you saved my life. Serving you for a lifetime would not be able to repay your help.' 

Yorell was surprised by his courtesy. It gave him the courage to do his proposal.

'I desire to join you on your journey,' he said, his jaw set, not quite looking at Ma’an but also not wanting to look away.

They stared intently at one another for a few moments before Ma'an averted his gaze. He pouted, then chuckled. 

Both felt warm in their cheeks.

'I apologise,' Yorell said under his breath.

'Do not,' Ma'an quickly said, 'I am not laughing at your request, I’m just surprised – though perhaps I shouldn't be. I just wonder: have you thought this through? You said yourself that it is a perilous road. What makes you want to leave these lands?' Ma'an's expression turned concerned.

'Well, Ma'an, look around. This place is falling apart. It is no house, no home, at least. I am not from here either. I come from the near south, but I’ve had to leave my country. I found this place, which has served me well for the past years, but there is nothing here for me. Something has always been missing. Your arrival was like a call, telling me to go. So, yes, I have thought about it – in fact, I have had my things packed for months now – and I am ready to leave this place, whether I may go with you or not. I do promise you that, if you wish, I will follow your every step. So, if you want to repay me, allowing me to be your company would be sufficient.' 

It was quiet for a moment, Ma'an was deep in thought.

'I do not know where this journey will take me, nor do I know whether it will bring me anywhere at all. But if it is your request, so be it. Some company would delight me, truly,' he eventually said.

'I understand that well, Ma'an. I will not hold you accountable for any outcome we may face. I thank you deeply for allowing me to join.' Yorell bowed to him as well.

'Well then, Yorell. You should get your gear ready. Wouldn't want to lag behind.'

'I am prepared! In fact, you may have noticed Piyar, my horse, by the shed. She will carry us at least to the end of the forest, I reckon,' Yorell said. 

Ma'an's eyes glowed. 'Really? That would be wonderful!'

'Of course. She will give us a good start, though she will not be able to go into the colder regions. I will leave her behind on the plains north to the forest. That’s where she came from, so she will be at home.'

'You really have thought about this a lot, haven't you?' 

Yorell laughed. 'Of course. I have studied the surrounding lands for a while now, so I might even be able to… make your journey easier.' The confidence faltered from his voice. 

Ma’an’s lips formed a friendly smile. 

Yorell went to get his luggage, which he kept in the pantry, always ready for the moment he finally made his decision. 

In no time, he was ready. 

Piyar was grazing in the woods nearby and came trotting towards the house when Yorell called her. 

She was a large horse with black fur and a couple of white spots on her back. 

The horses here looked quite different from those that Ma’an was used to. In Peijh they were smaller, and had shorter, rounder snouts. 

The Miranitian horses he had seen, Piyar included, stood tall on their legs and had pointier snouts. Their eyes were smaller and their manes stood up straight most of the time. 

To Ma’an, it almost seemed like an illusion, everything being bigger on the other side of the sea. The difference in size was definitely there, but his feeling of helplessness made it seem much worse. 

Yorell made Piyar ready for departure, closed all doors and windows of the house, and stepped away from the building to look at its highest windows. 

Their boots creaked in the snow.

'Did you find it difficult to leave your home?' Yorell asked. 

Their breathing made clouds in the air. 

Ma'an looked at the house as well. He put his hood on and fastened it with the scarf around him.

'I did not know my departure would be permanent when I left, so no. I understand this is different, but you seem sure of your decision,' he replied.

'I have never been more sure.' Yorell turned away from the house and looked north, though there was nothing to see but trees. ‘How long do you think it will take to get there?'

‘I do not know, but I think we are leaving at the right time. I reckon we could reach the coldest parts by summer at this rate, that should ease our journey. It will still be difficult, but we have keiïa on our side.’

'Keiïa,' Yorell repeated, ‘Is that what you call… what we do?’

'Yes, it’s magic. Keiïa is the most common word for it in Peijh,' Ma'an said.

‘Ah, we call it kayta, quite similar. Are the two words related?'

'Perhaps they are. Things so old are hard to pinpoint, though. Anyhow, we’ll see how skilled you are in kayta once we need it.’ He chuckled.

‘I hope we won’t need any magic at all, but that’s probably a thought too optimistic. I think now it's time we go, isn't it?'

'Whenever you're ready.' 

They took Piyar to the end of the bottom of the hill where the house stood and onto the soft forest floor. 

The snow had stopped a few days ago, but still a layer of about five centimetres covered the open spaces of the forest.

'You can sit before me, if you don't mind. It would be safest for someone your size,' Yorell said, and when Ma'an agreed, he lifted him onto the horse.

'Pardon my rudeness, but are all people of Peijh as small as you?' he asked.

'Yes, most are, though they get taller towards the east. I was surprised to see people like you. They are rather intimidating, but you have proven kind.'

'I’m glad I did. I promise you most people here have good hearts. Now, let's head for the Forest Road.' 

Yorell strapped all their luggage to the saddle and mounted Piyar. He sat behind Ma'an and made sure he would not fall – Ma'an himself could not reach the stirrups. 

And off they went, to the road that went northward.

・・・

The wind was cold, but gentle. 

Piyar walked at a steady pace and soon they had found the cobbled Forest Road. 

The overarching pine branches had caught most of the snow, so the ground was well visible. 

Ma'an looked around and sometimes took out a small map, pondering their route. 

His mind was far ahead already, into the tundra that lay beyond the horizon. He wondered about the dangers they might face and the struggles they may come across. 

It was no use thinking about things so far off, but it kept his mind busy on the otherwise uneventful day. 

He decided to let it go around noon and shifted his attention to the forest around them. 

The pine trees were stiff and tall, but here and there stood a couple of lower bare deciduous trees in between. 

The air was humid and clearly came from the sea, though still far away to the east it was. 

Yorell told him the forest was called the Kahaylt. It was rather young, at least the outskirts of it. Its core had been standing for ages in the dark vales beyond Doku, but no people came there. 

This part of the forest was light: plenty of sun rays fell through the canopy and onto the stones and pebbles, fallen needles, and steadily melting snow. 

A thin layer of ice made the stones of the road slippery, but Piyar seemed used to it and did not once slip. 

The day went by calmly, and when the sun had disappeared into the seemingly endless western woods, they had already passed about 40 kilometres. 

They had taken several breaks about every two hours. Most were quiet but not uncomfortable. 

To Ma'an's surprise, the road was mostly empty apart from several merchants on their way to the south. 

The first sign of human life was a road sign with red painted symbols on it which Ma'an could not read. The snow had blown against it, but hands had wiped it away, indicating it was passed often. 

The secret liveliness of this place was also supported by the many imprints in the snow. 

Sometimes a small path split up from the main road, but they did not stray from the broad, paved way that led them straight northward. 

Passing the sign, vague yellow lights became visible far behind the trees.

'This town is called Larlma. I come here sometimes. There is a tavern we can stay in,' Yorell said. 

Ma'an was caught off guard by the way he took charge. This was his journey, and yet he was now dependent on Piyar and Yorell, and he seemed to have little say in their next steps. 

But perhaps he did not mind right now. 

He was still weary from his past travel, and his wound still occasionally stung in his side, so the guidance was appreciated while he strengthened for the future. 

Yorell certainly did not want to pretend to be the lead, but he figured since he was more familiar with the land and he had the means to make the start of the journey easier, it was his responsibility to help Ma'an. 

He saw it as service to this strangely honourable figure. 

Because the week that he had dwelt in his house had made visible a strange hue about him. 

Something foreign of unknown strength. 

Perhaps his keiïa mastery, perhaps something deeper. 

Through his weariness and injury, a power shone and fell upon everything about him. 

Yet he was not wise, or old, or valiant per se: he was a small young man that was not quick to use violence unless cornered or otherwise in peril. 

Yorell often glanced at him as they rode through the Kahaylt. He could only see the back of his hood, and yet he noticed fear, doubt, and determination. 

Ma'an's true purposes were unknown to him, but so were his own to Ma'an. 

And he let that be for now. 

Their true goals would surface once they had crossed the North Pole, if ever.