Gretchen guided me to the main market, some people were selling despite the heavy rain falling down and the thick mud that made my boots cling to the ground. We entered the bookshop, the bell ringing above and the bookkeeper arrived from behind a curtained off section of the shop, he seemed surprisingly chipper, maybe the rain was something he enjoyed?

“Ah, my best customer,” He set down a mug of warmed ale-still steamy-and stood by the counter. Edgar croaked from his spot on my shoulder and flew onto the counter where Teague looked surprised at the sight of him, he riffled trough his pocket before holding out some bits of dried berries which Edgar nibbled at.

“Morning Teague, just letting Rán wander inside for a bit.” He nodded and took a sip of his drink, Gretchen indeed let me wander. She stayed by the counter, chatting Teague up as I walked through the aisles, the sound of my boots thunking down on the stoney ground drowned out most of the background noise. I browsed the titles before one caught my eye; The Families That Shaped The North. It was a thick book, about the size of three of my fingers. I pulled it free, flipping through the pages and saw it had several family trees, including the Elrod-I did spell that one right!-family. It spoke about how the North, the first and oldest Empire-called Lampertis-was able to repair itself the quickest after a disastrous war that plunged the continents into another dark age.

I paused, there were multiple continents here-Hans had mentioned the far East that had coins similar to old Chinese coins from my world and that was how it inspired the people in the Southern lands to keep their money but how many were there? I headed for the section that held a lot of geography styled books and pulled out one that looked promising. It listed the five continents and the main exports of each continent. The South dealt in ore, fabric types from the various herd animals they had, sugar they exported from the various islands that littered the coast and some vegetation that had been grown for a long time and wood. The North exported a lot of grain, metal, coal, and hearty winter tolerant vegetables before they closed themselves off completely-I kept the page marked and looked at the date the book was written, the year of the Thirty-Fifth Short Winter was the only thing written, I’ll have to ask Gretchen to figure out days and how they marked time down, they’ve mentioned years but that was it. East had a lot of pottery, rice and specific gems that flowed back and forth, and the West dealt in livestock for the most part with a bit in weaponry.

Only three single continents were ruled by an empire that went through a different ruling family every hundred years like Gretchen said while the North has had the same family lineage for the past five hundred years. The fifth was considered under rule of the Oriel, where part of the Eastern lands resided and where a lot of Fae came from, the rest came from the North before the accusations of the next princess getting stolen sent them off to finding a new home. Most of the courts headed for the fifth Continent while the smaller, Vernal court had chosen the South.

I hunted for the actual names of the continents, freezing when a large map fell out. The shapes were a little off but I knew the shapes of the continents back home, and they resembled the previous continents heavily, though Florida was missing from what was considered the North and Italy was gone too, I pondered for a while.

Was I in a different timeline? Soft footsteps-Gretchen no doubt.

“Will that be everything?” Gretchen asked, I turned to her and nodded, quickly shoving everything back into the book. She looked at the titles and chuckled.

“Finally expanding your knowledge?” I nodded and walked to where Teague stood, setting them down. He looked at them then back at me.

“Four Aurum or the equivalent.” I counted out the amount of what I had before handing it to him. He wrapped the books in cloth and twine which I tucked into my bag with the other bundle from Margret.

“In all my years, I’ve never seen a village girl devour books like you do.” His eyes darted to Gretchen. “Surely she isn’t one of your little friends from up North?” Gretchen shook her head, hooking my arm with one of hers.

“We’ll be by no doubt tomorrow, Teague, have a good rest of the day.” Edgar seemed to want to stay with Teague, getting scritches from the older man. I held my books tightly, thinking for a bit as we walked to the cart, the oxen munched on some offered hay while the rain pelted the roof above us.

“Do the Fae live long?” I asked. Gretchen held her hands out for my satchel, pausing at my question.

“Yes, why?”

“Ver-The Highkin, I have some questions for him.” She hummed, setting it in a box. “We can see if he is able to meet with you.”

 ***

He couldn’t, according to the guards outside the entrance of the lavish building he resided in among the thick trees. It was situated further back from the river, with the pathway made from polished stone that I nearly slid off a few times as we walked up a slight incline.

“His lordship is busy, he cannot cater to the needs of a barely trained witch when she so much as sneezes.” I reeled back a little at the insulting tone he used and even Gretchen looked a little shocked. I might've sneezed when we approached but still, rude. They weren’t elves, but humans wearing thick leather armor. This house had belonged to one of the richer families and had allowed it to be used by Vervain while the court resided deeper in the forest.

“That’s not-” Gretchen snapped but I placed a hand on her arm, shaking my head. She gritted her teeth.

“The Nokken is old, maybe he can answer your questions when we get back.” She turned and I bowed at them before following her back towards Riverwood. The village we needed to get to was across the river and accessible by a large stone bridge. It had to be closer to mid-day by the time we reached the bridge, stopping twice to eat and give the oxen a break. The sky was just barely a bit brighter. Gretchen hopped off and withdrew a dagger, slicing the curve of the meat of her palm and pressed it against a bit of stone, hitting the stone with the hilt of her dagger three times. She held it up to me and I took them, the rain washing away the blood on the stone, lightning flashed, thunder rattling the air around us and I felt a little at ease.

“It’s to give respect to the being that lives under the bridge.” My mind was reminded of the old nursery rhyme my mother used to read to me, of the three billy goats and the bridge troll. I took the dagger and sliced my palm, pressing it to the stone and hit the rock. The three clangs rang like heavy bells. I handed the dagger back to her and started to climb up only to freeze when I felt the unmistakable feeling that something was watching me. My head swirled, drops of water falling from my head as I attempted my best to look.

“Rán?” I looked up, blinking drops away rapidly as I looked at Gretchen. I finished getting back in and silently prayed I didn’t give whatever it was enough attention. Boyd let out a growl as he eyed the edge of the bridge while we crossed. The rest of the ride was silent. She let out a groan when we saw the familiar insignia of the Northern army swaying in the breeze. She tightened her grip on the reins.

We made it to the gate in minutes, an older man standing there and did a double take at Gretchen.

“Gretchen?”

“Uncle.” She answered stiffly. He offered a tense smile as several guards inspected the cart, one flipped through the book pages and I cringed slightly when a few rain drops managed to get on the paper. They closed it and shoved it back in the bag and pushed it under the bench. Boyd hissed when one got too close.

“And this is?” I looked over at Gretchen’s uncle. Unlike Gretchen’s bright red hair or Han’s blond, his hair was darker, pulled away from his face in a thick braid, his features more Caucasian than mine, but the dark brown eyes and slanted corners told he had some Indigenous ancestry.

“Rán.” I looked at Gretchen. “Hmm, she looks Northern.” He mused.

“She’s not, she came from the village grandma lives in. It’s a coincidence.” He walked over to me and held his hand out to me. I took it, slowly.

“Why hello there Rán. I’m Jacobs, Gretchen’s paternal uncle.” I looked at her for help, not knowing if he knew sign language.

“She’s mute.” He dropped my hand.

“Ah, defective.” There were a couple of snickers from the guards as they hopped out of the cart. I held my hands together, feeling a little anxious. “Eh, at least if she gets a husband, he won’t have to listen to her nag and complain.” One said, earning a couple of cackles from his peers. I saw them leer, eyes going over my body and I just wanted to curl up in my cloak. A hand slammed onto the wood, making me jump as I caught steel grey eyes, a foot soldier. He even pulled my cloak back to see underneath and despite the layers I still wore, I felt exposed, my hands balled into fists on my skirt.

"Not bad looking though, wouldn't be too keen on kicking her from my bed." My shoulders trembled and Gretchen glared at them, squeezing my knee. There was a loud throat clearing from Gretchen's uncle, who thankfully looked annoyed at the crew he had.

"Go walk the perimeter, Tae." The soldier looked a bit offended before backing up, grabbing a sword and walking off, the rest scurried back a bit. Jacobs had the decency to look ashamed as he glanced up at me while I fixed my cloak around myself.

“Anyway, what’s your business here?”

“Getting some horses.” She placed a satchel of coins in an offered hand. Her uncle nodded, waving a hand and the gate opened. The reins snapped and we entered. The village was more spacious than Riverwood, the houses made strictly from stone with shingles rather than a mix of stone and wood with the streets made from tightly packed rocks pressed into the ground.

“Stay beside me, no matter what.” Gretchen disembarked and I followed. The lampposts here were made of glass and metal, housing regular yellowish-orange flames. She pulled out a large box and I heard the slight rattling of coin stacks. I followed her through the streets and towards the outskirts where some farms sat, our feet got caught in the mud a few times before we made our way to the door where Gretchen used the large knocker.

It opened, revealing a youngish looking woman with long brown hair in a looped ponytail.

“Can I help you?” She sounded like she came from Appalachia.

“Horses for sale?” She sighed, leaning against the frame. “The army took all my best ones.” Gretchen groaned.

“But. I do have two left.” Her eyes snapped open.

“Show me.”

The lamps flickered in the cool air of the barn, heavy scent of straw and oiled leather overlapping the scent of horse. The first horse was a young one, colored chestnut with a white stripe on his head, he needed some time to grow into his legs but had already been trained. Next was the older female.

“Here, this is Arc. She has a temper and no one has been able to get close to her and attempt to ride her. She is trained, she's just is really picky.” Arc reminded me of a Clydesdale, with a silvery sheen to her coat and black mane. Her hooves were shaggy, feathery if I remember the proper term correctly. She shook her head and whinnied, looking at me with both eyes before stepping closer. I carefully held my hand out, hoping she didn’t mistake my fingers for carrots and felt the soft velvety nose, slowly running my fingers up her snout and rubbed between her eyes, she closed her eyes and whickered softly, leaning against my fingers.

“Hello Arc.” I mouthed. Her owner made a curious noise as she stepped closer.

“Always figured Arc would go for a big strong man, not some little morsel like you. Can you ride?” I nodded, though I might be a little rusty.

“Follow me.” She took Arc’s lead and I followed as she plopped on her blanket and saddle after a quick brush. We were lead to an indoor place, the ground made from sand, no doubt pulled from the river's shore. I removed my coat and skirt, wanting to be comfortable.

“Climb up.” It took me a second but I managed to get a good grip and hoisted myself and fixed myself into the saddle. The stirrups were still a bit long and I quickly adjusted so they were at a correct height for my feet to rest comfortably, Arc shifting, probably unused to having someone on her in a long time.

“Get her to start walking.” I barely had to squeeze my calves before she began walking. We did a full walk around before the owner nodded.

“Canter now.” I shifted my weight and leaned back into my heels, giving a squeeze to her girth. It was easy to fall back in the rhythm of moving with the animal as I helped her warm up with a trot before moving into the canter. I felt free with the air rushing past my face, memories of golden fields, the almost thundering sound of hooves eating up the ground as I rode with abandon as a teen.

“Gallop.” I moved into two point as Arc quickened her gait. A few minutes and my legs started to hurt so I pulled gently at the reins, getting her to slow and guided her over to Gretchen and Arc’s owner.

“Hmm, you’re good for a village girl.” She turned to Gretchen. “Five hundred Argentum for the youngin’ and a thousand Aurum for Arc.” Gretchen pulled out the box and opened it, pulling several bundles of coins. She counted them as I slid off, giving Arc a rub on her nose. “Good, thank you two for the business.” I removed the saddle and blanket, giving Arc a quick rub down with a wet piece of cloth. We hooked the horses to the cart, placing Arc's saddle in the back where Boyd happily curled up on.

“Careful on the way back you two!” She called from her porch as we guided the horses towards the main village.

“Happy early birthday by the way.” I stopped for a second, Arc snorting and making me move again.

“What?”

“Arc is a birthday gift from Hans, grandma and I, we missed last year so here is your birthday gift for this year.” I walked in silence after her before tugging her back and hugging her. Gretchen froze before giving me a big, bone breaking hug in return, laughing.

“Let’s get going.”