Now evening had fallen, and the world was dark about them, trees but stalking black figures beside the road. 

The Forest Road crossed Larlma, and so following it they passed small buildings; houses, sheds, and barns, until they came to a large wooden wall on stone foundations. 

In it was an arch, through which the road passed that led them into the town's centre. 

The trees here were still present, yet far between for they had made place for houses of dark stone in many shapes, much like Yorell's. 

Lanterns lit the roads and houses, a couple figures could be seen in the streets, but not many.

'It is time for dinner, so most people are indoors at this hour. Come, I will lead us to the tavern,' Yorell spoke, and he encouraged Piyar to speed up a little. 

Before long they arrived at a large building. Voices and music came from within, and shadows could be seen moving through the windows. Some people were chatting outside. 

Yorell dismounted Piyar and helped Ma'an off the saddle before binding the black horse to one of the beams by the entrance. More horses stood there, and there was plenty of food and water for them about. 

Yorell took Ma'an inside. The stone building had thick but smooth walls with rounded corners and deep windows. 

Inside, the flooring was of colourful tile.

'Stay close behind,' Yorell said, and they entered the tavern via a short, narrow hall. 

It was rather crowded, yet the atmosphere was not too suffocating. People were dancing to music coming from strange instruments. Others were chatting and drinking in booths or sitting on stools by the tall tables. 

At the end of the mess hall, there was a bar or counter of some sort, behind which people stood filling cups and serving food. Behind that counter were open doors which gave a glimpse into the kitchen. 

People looked as they walked across the hall to the counter, but the music kept going and quickly everyone minded their own business again.

'Good evening,' one of the people behind the counter said to Yorell. A stern lady drying glass cups and putting them back on the shelves above. 

She was as tall as Yorell, if not taller, and wore different clothing than he had at his home. She wore a coat much like a dress to her ankles, like most people in there did. The collar was folded like a cape over her shoulders, revealing the thin cloth she had wrapped around her torso.  

'Good evening. Can we get dinner and a room for two?' Yorell said. 

The employee seemed confused by the number of people, until her searching eye fell on Ma'an, and she was speechless for a moment.

'... yes, yes, certainly,' she said, not taking her eyes off of the small human. 'What are your family names?'

'Kiria and... Tiyla,' Yorell said.

'Kiria and Tiyla, all right.' She took a key out of a wooden cabinet behind her and handed it to him. 'Room 4 is all yours. Please take a seat, your food will be brought shortly.'

'Thank you dearly,' Yorell replied, and he and Ma'an seated themselves in a booth in the corner of the hall.

‘Why did you give a false name?' Ma'an asked softly. He figured he knew already but wanted Yorell's thoughts.

'People here are not familiar with your people or your land. There would be many questions, and you do not seem to have the energy for that. You should recover in peace,' Yorell said. 

His voice had a certain joy in it, perhaps excitement for the journey. Ma'an felt it too, but it drowned in all his other feelings.

'That is all right. Thank you. I would not have been able to come up with a name myself,' he replied.

'You're doing quite good with Dokian. You're very quick to learn,' Yorell said, noticing Ma'an understood virtually everything he said.

'Yes, languages come to me easily. Perhaps Dokian shares some deep roots with the Ancient Tongue I cannot put my finger on,' Ma'an spoke in flawless Dokian, even if the pronunciation was a bit off. 

Yorell's mouth fell open as he realised that he had never even used words like that in front of him and so there was no way he could have learned them from him. 

An employee brought them their food: two plates of seasoned rice, seaweed salad, and fruits; and two mugs of some strange juice. 

Yorell smirked at the wizard beside him. 

Ma'an knew exactly what he did.

'Okay, where did you learn to speak like that? You have barely said a word in Dokian to me yet,' Yorell said.

'As I said: languages come to me easily. Magic, perhaps,' Ma'an teased, and as he said magic, his eyes glittered.

They enjoyed the food and discussed what was to be done tomorrow. 

Yorell said the Kahaylt would soon come to an end and the road would cross a river before bending to the east. Only on rare occasions had he crossed the river – his travels were usually southward – so they would have to rely on the maps more. 

Ma’an proposed his plan to go northwest, away from the coast, after the river, but Yorell was doubtful. He advised to stay near the coast so they could take advantage of the good roads and safety there. 

They agreed to think about it and decide once they were there. 

After dinner, they went to the room. 

There were two beds on opposite sides of the room, both with the head towards the wall with a single window. The curtains were closed, and a dim oil lamp was lit. 

They lay their luggage on the floor and chatted a little. 

Yorell watched Ma'an as he wrote in a small notebook. A journal, he guessed. 

He tried to recall the Peijhan's introduction of last week, but he remembered little of it: the terms he had used were complicated and had no equivalents in Dokian, so he was not sure what they meant. 

He felt like he misunderstood who Ma'an was, and yet Ma'an felt the same about him. 

He knew Yorell was a wizard, that was clear. A lesser wizard, but still, a wizard. And he saw through some of his secrets. Not all, certainly not all, but more than other people would. 

He perceived that Yorell was a calm and soft-spoken man, and yet he felt there was a fire within him: some desire or passion that gave him great strength – whether that be physical or mental – that was not related to keiïa, but rather to who he was or his purpose. 

The two men read each other that way without words, but both knowing of one another with what they saw. It made them lay most of their questions and suspicions of each other aside.

'May I ask why you wish to avoid the cities?' Yorell asked.

'You may. I do not like the attention, I am trying to stay hidden. Though I also need to mind our safety. In the west lies Waai, a land that is not mapped, which I believe I have seen enough of… Straight ahead seems the best now; into Yirawna Li.’ Ma’an sighed and put his hands in his hair. ‘It’s been a long time since I have spoken about these matters aloud, I apologise.’ 

Yorell shook his head. ‘It’s okay. You have a lot on your plate. But… you have been in the Land of Waai? That is said to be dangerous. We will have to pass into it eventually, but I recommend that you postpone that moment for as long as you can. And staying hidden… is someone looking for you?’ 

Ma’an looked up at him. 

Yorell’s face was stern, he did not want to hear a lie.

‘I do not know…’ Ma’an said, ‘Maybe.’ 

Seeing the trouble in Ma’an’s eyes, Yorell instantly dropped the subject.

‘Okay, I do not think the meadows and fields will prove any challenge to us as long as we take the right route, so let’s not worry too much about that. When we cross the border, though, things will get tougher. Yirawna Li is filled with volcanoes and deep craters. Still, it cannot be worse than the terrible Waai,’ Yorell grew quieter when he realised Ma’an was no longer really listening. 

He sat there for a while, recalling all spoken and unspoken words.

‘You do not trust me with your story,’ he eventually said calmly, making an effort not to sound judgemental.

‘Perhaps I don’t.’ Ma’an sat down on the bed again. ‘But that is not personal. It is a difficult story and I do not have the energy right now. Please excuse me.’

‘No need. I will not disturb your past, fascinating though it may be. I think we both have some things that we do not easily share,’ Yorell said. 

Ma’an was comforted by his understanding. ‘We speak a lot without words, you must have noticed.’ 

Yorell tilted his head in curiosity. ‘I have,’ he said, ‘but I would not have been able to describe it that way. You are a mysterious man, Ma’an. I hope I will be able to get to know you better soon.’ 

Ma’an smiled. ‘I’m sure we will. There is a long road to share ahead.’ 

He lay a hand on Yorell’s knee. ‘We should sleep now. Tomorrow is another day.’

And so, the two wizards slept peacefully in Larlma. 

The night-sky flew by swiftly and when they woke, the sun was already peeking over the distant sea. 

They had breakfast downstairs, and restocked their supplies, though the need was not very high yet. 

Now, in the twilight, Ma’an caught a lot more stares. He seemed to make people nervous. They clearly did not feel at ease in his presence, but they did not approach him out of fear of this unfamiliar figure. 

Ma’an kept his hood on and followed Yorell in silence, hoping they would get out of town soon. 

And they did, because after restocking their provisions, they went to get Piyar and found themselves on the Forest Road again in the same configuration as the day prior. 

They left through the northern gate and were surrounded by the quiet, white Kahaylt, sleeping beneath the snow. 

There was not a sound but that of Piyar’s soft hooves and the creaking of snow beneath them. 

The air lay light about them and only a couple of small clouds occasionally blocked the bright sun. It made the wind stinging like small needles in their faces not too bothersome. 

They did not speak, at least not to each other. 

Yorell could sometimes hear Ma’an muttering in a whisper. The tongue was strange to him. 

Ma’an was watchful that day, looking around every now and then as if hearing something even Yorell could not hear. 

But there was no sound, Yorell was sure of it. So perhaps that was not what bothered Ma’an. 

He felt, however, that disturbing the wizard now would not do any good, and so he waited for the sun to start sinking again and the trees to turn black against the sky.