Fortunately, there was no night quite like the first one in Ibbergreen. Other than the seemingly endless wooded paths and dirt roads that preceded the evenings.

The next couple days, we again stayed at manors of the nearby lords. Both of the manors were more like our own home in Olwick than the lonely tower of Lord got Ibbergreen. Lord Vapelle and Lord Manon both welcomed my mother and father courteously but in their own ways.

Lord Vapelle and his wife were warm but careful, no hint of empty praise or boasting. Lord Manon, on the other hand, was reserved if polite, spending little time other than to welcome us, even excusing himself from the dinner, claiming business in the village of Geul nearby.

Lord Vapelle and his wife were both young. They had 3 valets at their beck and call, to serve us a meal and care for the property.

Vapelle and my father even went to the fields to ride around the grounds after the dinner, though the lady excused herself from my and mother's company.

We simply went to our chambers where we had a warm basin of water awaiting us for a quick wash.

I was given a newly carved crib, from which I could still smell resin and wood. Perhaps the lord and lady were expecting a child of their own soon.

The shade of the deep red wallpaper perhaps would have made an impression of cozy warmth in the winter, but as it was, the colour of the walls where sunlight reached them made me remember my nightmare from the tower in that strange place with the spire.

I tried to close my eyes and focus inward, pooling yet another infinitesimal drop of mana in my slowly growing core.

Perhaps by the end of the voyage to the capital, I could start practising with some proper spells.

I slept for a bit, until I was awakened by father's return. We were all in a single room tonight. But as he and mother blew out the candles, I fell asleep once again.

As I slept, I relived the nightmare of the black spire once again.

Gasping awake, I kept from calling mother who had looked exhausted most of the day. In any case, I knew that I could turn around to escape into the ray of light, so it wasn't as bad this time. Still, the repetitiveness of this dream was unnerving and I had trouble sleeping again as I stared into the dark, a ringing in my ears.

The next night, at the Manon manor was more quiet. Most of the manor seemed empty and dark. Once the lord left to the village, it was just one older manservant who served a simple dinner and showed us to our rooms.

Riding in the carriage on the fourth day, I wondered about the recurring nightmare.

It was a very different type of dream, both from usual nightmares and the recollections of the laboratory, where that captain told me time magic did not exist.

This one was more real, tangible. I could feel pain and control my actions. Fortunately, as I would grow panicked if I couldn't simply turn to the red clouds to seek the light of escape.

Was it yet another curse?

There was a strange obsession with dark magics here. Even in my mother's stories, I heard of blood-crazed vampires and evil warlock heroes instead of prodigious mages and allies of justice.

There's no reason to place a curse on me just to make hallucinations of dark spires in my dreams. But then, there's no reason for flocks of northern forest birds and other animals to be cursed as shriekers either.

If it was even a curse.

I still couldn't forget my nightmares of Drim, already threatening me and Ivian before he transformed, and then shrieking and stabbing Nistan without any sanity.

I told myself I was overthinking this. It was just a complex lucid dream.

I had just been uprooted from my only home and Ivian, transported to distant lands. And grandfather was a looming presence, as ominous as the spire itself. Perhaps the tower was my grandfather, a representation of my worries creeping closer as we approached the gates of the capital.

The horses drawing the carriage and Mr. Barker who guided them seemed oblivious to my feelings, simply moving forward into the forest road the next day as my parents had asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, we camped and there was finally some fun.

"Here's the spot!" Mr. Barker suddenly called out from the front of the carriage, at seemingly just another part of the road.

I didn't quite understand where 'here' was until the horses veered off the side of the road, taking our carriage for a bumpy ride between the trees.

"We'll be sleeping in the woods tonight Tilly," mother told me. "I still remember my first trip to Olwick. Your father told me we'd spend the night under the stars and I had thought he was joking until we arrived in this very place."

Mother seemed happy at that memory, so I was happy too.

"There was a village not far from here once, but Cond Yse and Cond Bairv were ridiculous in both claiming it as their own. The double taxation scared everyone away and your grandfather never considered it his matter to deal with."

Mother snorted daintily.

"To make matters worse, the village's houses were burned down later when expelling bandits who had taken up residence. At least we don't need to worry about bandits anymore."

Mother took me out of the carriage and towards a log that was lying beside traces of a fire place. It was a ring of stones with the remains of dampened charcoal, perhaps used by another traveller not so long before us.

Meanwhile, Mr. Barker started unloading the back of the carriage, where the chests and other supplies were. He handed father a metal stake and a mallet and the other two men from Olwick more stakes and a bundle of canvas.

Father quickly took the stake off a ways, and sunk it into the ground.

"Byl, bring over the ropes and make the bowlines," He called.

"You will be sleeping in the carriage tonight Tilly, but don't worry, we'll be right here in the tent beside you." Mother told me, as we saw Mr. Barker and the other man start to set up poles in the grass nearby.

They had thrown down two bundles of canvas a few meters away, so it seemed to be for two tents, one for my parents and the other for the three.

Fortunately, there was no rain, or else I'm afraid the carriage would have been crowded.

"Vis, this one," Mr. Barker said as he foisted a pole on him.

"Vis?" I asked, puzzled. He definitely wasn't the Vis I knew.

"The Vis you're thinkin' about is my cousin," the man who grabbed the pole from Mr. Barker said, "We're both named after our grandda. I wasn't born in Olwick like my cousin. Feels like I'm going home now, to the capital where I grew up."

He grinned at me and then turned around to start putting up the tent.

Father and Byl tied the horses up to the stake and then walked off into the woods.

Everyone was so busy, I almost felt like I should do something too.

"Fafi!" I called out, when the dog came into my sight.

I completely hadn't noticed her since we came out of the carriage, but she must have run ahead, since she was lying down just on the other side of the fireplace.

Fafi looked up, but she didn't come to play. She must have been tired from walking all day.

Father and Byl soon got a fire started with some pieces of wood they had retrieved from the woods. And then they all started preparing food and drink, all carefully stowed in the back of the carriage.

There wasn't anything made especially for me, so I just ate some of the stew along with the rest of my family and retinue.

The fire was warm and I was feeling full, but mother passed me to father as she got up to go to the woods herself.

"There's a ring around the moon," Mr. Barker was saying beside him as father ate another spoon of his second bowl of stew.

I looked up and it was true. It was like the moon was stuck inside a big bubble.

"Mmh. Looks like rain tonight after all," my father said, "the canvas will hold?"

It wouldn't be so bad to have mother with me in the carriage, but more than that might be a bit crowded...

"I waxed it before we left. We'll see what the clouds bring."

It seems Mr. Barker had prepared.

When mother came back to the clearing, she brought out a flute. She had played it before for me, while I was recovering from my broken leg, but never like this, under the stars.

The flute itself made airy notes, it caught air in little blips as mother's fingers came down for the next note or trill.

Mother's playing was elegant, her fingers continuing to move as she brought out new notes of melody. It was both uplifting and sad, the two sides of her song melding together and hanging in the clearing, over the crackling of the fire.

It was with that melody and the sound of my father's vigorous applause still in my head that I went to sleep on the worn leather surface of the carriage seat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kitterkititkitteritkitkit

I woke up panting, in the dark empty carriage.

The carriage door was rattling, the metal latch trembling around, buffeted by a breeze.

I tried to close my eyes again, but dim stripes of light chased the carriage's shadows in a circle before disappearing again.

Kititikitik

The latch kept on chattering and I heard the wind through the trees,

I put my hands on the sill and pushed the shutters open a crack.

Heavy but sparse drops of rain met my nose and eyes as I saw a line of horses and riders at a distance through the trees.

Bandits?

I tensed, thinking of mother's story of the nearby abandoned village from last night.

I was about to shout to mother in the tent outside, but froze as the blue light caught my eyes again.

It was the people and their horses that glowed a bright blue.

A woosh of wind through ruffled leaves was all I could hear, even though horses and men were in blue were growing closer and closer to me.

It was another foreign memory, a vision come to life.

I shivered and pulled a blanket over my shoulders and continued to look with one eye through the thin crack in the shutters.

As they approached, I could see the paleness of their hair. Even though they were blue lights, there was depth to their faces that looked solemn as they marched.

A path of cobblestones I had not seen last evening spread out ahead of them.

As they walked right up to the clearing, an eye met my own.

My heart leapt as I stared at the girl, the same age as Pricel.

She stared right back at me, through the gently falling snow. She looked so familiar, so beautiful, like Eve, or Ivian.

She smiled and then I knew no more.