Feeling the rock… not exactly clear instructions.

Emmet and Sophia made their way down the main road for several hours, and the entire time he was trying to follow her directions. But try as he might, he couldn’t feel the rock much past what his fingers told him. It was rough, and any dirt that covered it had been worn off by his fingers running along the surface for the length of the day. He tried feeling in the rock, but that was no good. Despite all his efforts, he just couldn’t get a grasp on what she was talking about.

“Is there some kind of secret to this?” Emmet finally asked, breaking his hours long silence. Sophia looked back at him, as if he had just pulled her from deep thought.

“No secret.” She told him. “Just practice.”

Sophia had a sort of teasing tone to her voice. As if she knew what kind of struggle Emmet was going through to follow her asinine directions. Emmet pursed his lips, giving his attention back to the stone. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, trying to focus on… whatever it was he should be focusing on. Just trying to feel the stone with his hands had proved fruitless. She made it sound like he needed to touch the stone, but maybe there was more to it than that? Stone still in hand, he tried his best to ponder on more than the sensations his skin was telling him, and just think about the stone. He thought about the way each bump and ridge felt against his fingertips, how he could feel the tinniest pellets of grit that made up the stone. He thought about what could be beyond that, how many of those impossible small bits of stone made up the whole. Emmet was so deep in thought, he did not even notice the bump in the road that caught his foot.

His eyes shot open just as he started to fall to the earth, landing on his hands as the stone fell and skipped away from him. He looked back to see what had tripped him, finding he had caught his foot on a large patch of growth. Grass and weeds were blossoming from a large upheaval in the path, almost the size of a man.

“Oh dear, are you alright?” Sophia said, helping Emmet to his feet.

“I’m fine.” He replied, dusting himself off. “I’ve had horses buck me off before, this is nothing.”

“Someone should really do something about that…” She said, looking back to the mound of grass before turning to continue their trek down the trail.

A while passed and Emmet was beginning to grow tired of this. He wasn’t making any progress, at least he thought he wasn’t. He even tried picturing the stone floating in his hand, tried to pretend it was an extension of his body, but these gave no results. He decided this would be something to try another time.

“So… where is it exactly we are going?” Emmet asked, breaking the silence between the two.

“The Esphell Monastery.” She said, as if that was a place he should know about.

“And where exactly is this monastery? I won’t need to shave my head, will I?” Emmet asked.

“No, no need to shave your head.” She replied, lifting her hand up to point towards a mountain off in the distance, one that Emmet had always known as part of the horizon, but not one he had ever given much thought. “And we are going there. To Bradson’s Peak.” She said casually.

“All the way out there?” He asked. “That’s got to be what, at least a few weeks of walking? Can’t we just weave a portal there or something?”

Sophia sighed, looking back at Emmet and shaking her head. “You have a lot to learn.”

Emmet rolled his eyes. So conjuring fire and lifting stones with your mind was possible, but teleporting isn’t? He thought to himself.

The two made their way down the dirt road for the better part of an hour, Emmet having decided to give the whole “feel the rock” thing a break for now, and admire the view of the countryside. They were strolling through a small lining of trees, the path beneath the branches shaded from the sun. Above them, birds sand and the leaves rustled in the breeze as the earth crunched beneath them.

“So what is our plan for the night? Neither of us have any camping supplies.” Emmet asked.

“There is a small town not far from here, I stayed at the inn on my way to Elksbrooke. It should be a good place to rest and get something to eat.”

“A stiff drink sounds good right now.” Emmet said, eager to find something that might help take the edge off and relax him after the past few days he had.

Sophia let out a curt laugh in reply. “Unless you brought your own coin, you’ll have whatever I can get us. We’re on a budget for the foreseeable future.”

Emmet had rarely gone outside of Elksbrooke or the surrounding area. Once or twice he had gone out of town to visit family or accompany his father for work, but never this far. Clesa was a small village that was part of Lord Forcetti’s territory, Emmet only knew of it’s existence because he and Aaron had snuck into the lord’s study and gawked at a map until one of the maids shooed them out. The village did not have a wall surrounding it, just a waist high fence made of stacked stones between the green fields and the outermost buildings. It was mid afternoon by the time the pair had reached Clesa, with many of workers still out in the fields and others at home to end their day.

“Don’t look at anyone. Just keep your head low, and don’t draw attention to yourself.” Sophia said in a hushed tone.

Emmet started to speak in protest, but Sophia gave him a glare that convinced him otherwise. He thought that they were done sneaking around after they got out of Elksbrooke. Is this going to be their entire journey? Is this going to be his entire life from here on out? Just sneaking and staying silent? Emmet grit his teeth at the thought of it, wondering how much more of this he could take before he risked it all and just left. Would Sophia even go and look for him? He could probably leave in the middle of the night and get a few hours head start.

He noticed a trio of young men walking passed them, all covered in sweat and soot, likely coming back from a hard days work. Laughing, teasing each other, enjoying their lives. Something Emmet would sorely be missing.

“Here we are.” Sophia said, leading them to a long, one story building. Inside was a sitting area with a pot in a nearby fireplace, an older man sitting behind a desk at the front of the room. Behind him, a long hallway with several doors to the rooms for rent. Sophia reached into her pouch and pulled out a few coins and dropped them onto the counter, offering a smile.

“Two rooms, just for tonight.”

The old man looked up from his ledgers and gave the two of them a curious look. Emmet noticed that he seemed to be almost fixated on her hood.

“No rooms, inn’s full.” He said, before looking back down and scribbling in his book.

“We both know that’s a lie.” Sophia replied, her demeanor changing in an instant from calm and sweet to confrontational. “I was here just the other day and there was only one other room booked.”

The old man at the desk let out a deep sigh through his nose and slammed the book shut. His face began to grow red as his brow tightened. “And that was before I found what what that red cloak of yours meant you were!” He shouted as he stood up from his seat. “I don’t either of you in my inn, now get out!”

The entire time he spoke, his chin quivered. Emmet could have sworn the old man was afraid.

Sophia let out a sigh, and pulled out two more coins from her pouch. Silver, this time. “Just a place to stay and some dinner. That is all I ask, and we’ll be out by sun up.” She said, remaining remarkably calm.

The old man looked down at the coin, his eyes growing wide at the sight of the offer in front of him. He scooped up the coins and inspected them before turning back to the pair.

“Two rooms at the back left. Dinner is in two hours, be out by sunrise.” He said in a coarse voice, handing her two keys from the rack behind him before opening his book to return to his work as if nothing had happened. Sophia gave the man a nod, and gave one of the keys to Emmet, who was still confused by the entire exchange. He and Sophia stepped down the hall, and she opened the last door on the left side, gesturing for him to enter.

The room was rather plain. A single bed big enough for just him, a trunk at the end, and a small desk for any eating, as well as any work or writing that may need to be done. He dropped his bag on the floor, immediately realizing how sore his back was from the day of walking down a dirt road. He didn’t even need to think about sitting on the bed, he found himself sitting and sighing at just how nice it felt to sit on something comfortable after days in a cell.

“What was that all about?” He finally asked, just as Sophia was turning to leave. She stepped back into the room, shutting the door behind her and crossing her arms.

“It was something you are going to need to get used to.” She said bluntly.

Emmet let out a nervous laugh, scratching his chin. “I mean, I knew weaver’s weren’t popular. But how did he know? Doesn’t seem like something you shared with him before.”

Sophia simply held up the end of her red cloak in hand, and let it fall back down. “The cloak is a dead giveaway, only weaver’s wear these. I guess he must have picked it up from somebody who knew better than he did.” Sophia scoffed and shook her head. “An innkeeper who knows less about the outside world than the rest of his town…” she mused.

Emmet studied the details of the cloak. It was an dark red color, with gold coloring trim along the edges. The whole thing looked rather expensive, and it would certainly draw attention when in a crowd.

“So why wear it if it’s just going to draw attention to you?” Emmet asked flatly.

“It is required of me.” Was all Sophia said in response before she stepped out of the room, and shut the door.

An older woman, Emmet assumed she was the innkeeper’s wife, brought him his dinner. She smiled at him, treated him like he was any other guest. He guessed that she either didn’t know what he was, or simply didn’t care. She wished him a good night, and told him to come see her down the hall if he needed anything. Emmet wished she might have stayed for a bit longer, just to savor the first person in a while to treat him with a genuine kindness.

She left a tray holding his meal on the table nearby. A watery apple and cabbage soup with a side of bread. It wasn’t the best meal Emmet had eaten, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it was food in his belly after a long day. He left the tray and dishes outside of the door when he was done, and sat on the bed. It was not too late in the evening, but he was already starting to feel tired, and eager to fall asleep in a real bed for once. But his head turned as he laid his head against the pillow, and he noticed the pack resting by the door to his room. Kicking his feet off the bed, he knelt down and started to rummage through it’s contents. A canteen, dried food for the journey, a small knife and pot for cooking, just about what he would expect from a travel pack. But there was something else tucked away underneath it all, an envelope with the wax seal of the Forcetti family, a small eagle diving for prey. On the other side was a single name.

Emmet

He tore the envelope open, taking out the folded letter that was inside, quickly beginning to read it’s message.

Emmet,

I want you to know that it is with a heavy heart that I send you away from Elksbrooke. You have been like a nephew to me, and a true friend to my son. I wish I could tell your family the truth, let them know that you are alive and well, but trust in my judgment when I say it would be unwise. The Bennet family is not known for their benevolence and understanding, and if there was any reason for the duke’s survivors to think you still lived, they would stop at nothing to find you.

For what it is worth, I have decided to compensate your mother and father financially, taking care of their expenses for as long as they need. And should your father so choose, I will allow him to retire.

I only knew Sophia for a brief time, but I can already tell you two are going to butt heads. I beg of you, listen to her. Go with her. Do what she tells you. I do not put it lightly she is your best chance at learning to control yourself as a weaver. Because even if you managed to flee far away from our lands and make a new life for yourself, you still are a risk to yourself and others.

You are not a monster, you are not a freak. You are a bright young man with a good heart. And whatever is in store for you in Esphell, you will be fine.

Best of luck,

Lord Franklin Forcetti.

PS: I know you well enough to know you will want to keep this letter. It would be wise to destroy it, the first chance you had.

A single tear began to well in Emmet’s eye as his lips rose into a smile. He folded the letter and laid back on the bed, resting it on his chest. He let out a sigh of relief, and a mountain of tension seemed to let itself go of him.

While Emmet would still prefer that his family knew he was still alive and well, knowing that they at least would live well was some small comfort. But what meant more was knowing that the people who were able to help had not abandoned him. He didn’t particularly like the thought of obeying Sophia, but if Lord Forcetti would make the request, it was one he could follow. But one he could no obey was the request to destroy the letter, at least not yet.

As Emmet closed his eyes and sleep slowly took him, he started to feel something strange. It was a sense of anxiety. Anxiety that something was possibly going to go very, very wrong for him. But this was different from the nerves he had been feeling lately, it was as if he was feeling them for someone else and himself at the same time. As if he were an outsider who was putting his feelings into every stroke of a quill, praying against all hope that things were going to go well. This fear was far stronger than what he had felt ever since the accident at the stables. In fact, calling it fear wasn’t accurate. No, it was more like certain than fear. It was dread.

Emmet’s eyes shot open, and he looked down at the letter resting on his chest. Curious, he reached out to grab it, and watched as it floated ever so gently into the air.