After her tour of the escape routes and storage tunnels complete with some lessons in Kharlin history, Dawn returned to the communal area of the cave.

She needed to do some more mending and wanted to clear out her storage ring too. She’d collected quite a few odds and ends during the last few weeks, and while a storage ring was marvelous and she was grateful every day that she had found it, the space inside was not limitless. She needed to sort through all that she had collected and free up a bit of room.

Sitting down at an empty table she started to remove first her clothes, then her bedding and camping equipment, reminding herself that she needed to air out her bedroll and blanket. Food and water she decided to keep inside, but she took out her weapons and tools: a fishing line complete with hooks, a sling trap, a dagger, a reserve sword, a knife, bow and arrow, a firestarter, a pot and kettle etc.

The mountain of things next to her grew and grew. Finally, only food, water, some papers, her money and a map were left. She took out papers and map, frowning. First there was the letter regarding the bounty on Kharlin pelts. With a disgusted shudder, Dawn stood up and tossed it into the fire, asking herself why she had kept it in the first place.

Then she found some old letters from her mother to her father. Right, there had already been some papers inside the ring when she had found it. She had never taken the time to study them.

Dawn skimmed over the letters, feeling a bit uncomfortable while doing so. It was an invasion of privacy after all. But these were many years old already and she didn’t want to miss anything important by mistake.

In the end they were all just personal letters, overflowing with love and tenderness. While Dawn knew her mother as a warm and caring person, she had never been particularly expressive or exuberant with her feelings. Neither with Cord nor her children. The letters showed a different side of her and Dawn decided to keep them. Maybe her mother would like to have them back one day. Though Dawn wondered if she would ever see Elaine again. Probably not in the near future. She didn’t intend to return to Greenriver and run the risk that her parents would try to make her give up her path. Though Cord certainly seemed to have washed his hands of her completely.

She started to glance through the last letter and paused. This one was from her father to her mother. Maybe he hadn’t had the opportunity to send it before he died?

It was one letter she read carefully, feeling as if she could get to know the father she had never had a chance to meet through his writing.

My dearest heart,

I sincerely hope you are well. My travels have been pretty successful this time around and I managed to earn a good sum of gold during the last weeks. My gamble in going out with the caravan unseasonably early has certainly paid off. The roads have been rough and the weather dismal and cold as it frequently is in early spring, but at least today the sun came out for once.

I imagined you sitting at your loom, focused on your weaving with your lovely golden hair shining in the sun.

I miss you my love, and find myself counting the hours until I can see your beautiful smile again. It shouldn’t be too long now. Maybe I’ll even be back shortly after this letter reaches you.

There’s so much I have to tell you, about this journey, my business and just my thoughts and dreams.

When we stopped last night at the Baywater Inn, I met an old acquaintance and we spent the whole evening talking about our mutual friends and families and our business of course.

Through Aldan I have learned something that shocked me and has given me much food for thought. He told me that he met Sandoval Arensaw (he’s the brother of the girl my parents intended for me to marry) recently and spent some time with him. They talked about the broken betrothal and also about the reparations my family was forced to pay in the aftermath. He mentioned the sum in passing and was quite sure about the amount when I questioned him further.

Elaine, my father lied to me about the amount he had to pay to the Arensaws. In truth he paid barely a fourth of the amount he claimed was owed for reparations. As I write this my head is spinning. This last year has been massively stressful for us both because I tried to earn back that horrendous sum and now it turns out that it has all been a lie. I have earned back the true amount long since, and could have spent more time at home and with you.

I’m certain this has been a malicious ploy of my father to keep us apart, though I am hard pressed to imagine what he hoped to gain from it. Apart from more gold of course, but it is not as if he were in pressing need of that. He is wealthy enough as it is.

If he deals in such a dishonorable way with his own son, lying to me with no trace of compunction, I don’t want to imagine how he would be willing to treat you, an unwanted daughter in law.

I may have been naive when I thought your charm, beauty and sweetness were sure to win over my parents and reconcile them with our marriage swiftly.

Don’t think that I didn’t notice the way you grew ever more pale and silent when I was at home the last few times. I know you never complained, but it has pained me greatly to see you so sad and subdued, my darling.

Today I have kept thinking about our situation and made a decision. Once I return to Seagast, we will move out of the family mansion. If you are so inclined, we can even return to your parents in Greenriver village. I can build up my own trading business from there. It will not be an easy endeavour, but we are young and have time to build our life. We may have to live more modestly in that case, but what use are the wealth of my family and luxurious entrapments if you are unhappy? Though I am not exactly a wealthy man on my own, it is not as if I am totally penniless after all. And I will always care for you to the best of my ability.

My sweet, I hope this letter will reach you swiftly and that the prospect of returning to your home and family gladdens you and gives you a reason to smile, for once.

I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

Your loving husband,

Marek

Dawn lowered the letter, glad that she had read it. The words it contained had made her father come alive for her. He must have loved her mother a great deal if he was willing to break with his family completely for her. How sad for them both that he had been killed so young.

As for the rest of the Trakam family: Her opinion of them had already been low after reading that awful letter with the bounty on Kharlin pelts. Learning that they had lied to and betrayed one of their own in such a perfidious way made her gladder than ever that they had wanted nothing to do with her.

When she was younger she had sometimes wondered about her grandparents on that side and would have liked to get to know them, especially as her mother’s parents had died when she had been still very small. Now she could understand the reaction of her mother better, who had informed her in no uncertain terms that she was not allowed to contact them when Dawn had started to ask questions about her father and his family.

Sighing she started to stow away most of her things in the ring again, leaving out the clothes that still had to be mended and the bedding that she needed to air out. She somewhat hesitantly decided to part with her reserve sword. The one she carried on her belt and used in her sword practice was sturdy enough. Maybe one of the Kharlins could use this one.

Apart from that, she set aside a few of her old dresses. She had gotten used to wear trousers, enjoyed the freedom of movement they gave her and couldn’t see the need to burden herself with cumbersome dresses and skirts anymore. It would be enough to keep one ordinary dress and the fine one that had been her mother’s gift to her on the last longest night festival. If she ever saw the need to visit the city or a human village those should be quite enough.

Once she had finished with her inventory she had fifteen empty storage slots left in her ring. Certainly enough for the near future.

She deposited the clothes and the sword she had sorted out in her hut and went to find Nestor. He had promised her another lesson in sword fighting today, in addition to their usual morning routine. Further mending could certainly wait until the evening.

During their training she grew more and more frustrated. While her high agility aided her in dodging quite a few of Nestor’s blows and he had to work to strike her, she felt like a toddler when she tried to strike him in return. Her sword felt foreign and ungainly in her hands while with Nestor and Grinna it seemed as if their swords were simply an extension of their arms. It looked so easy if they were fighting and for her it was so hard. In spite of the fact that her level had risen by one during the last week, she had the impression that her fighting grew worse and worse.

Nestor noticed her frustration and called a halt after a short bout. Patiently he explained to her once more:

“You have to give it more time, Dawn. If you keep training every day you will teach your body to react in set ways and won’t have to actively think about your movements any more. That’s why you have to repeat certain sequences over and over during our morning sessions. Only after you have internalized these will you start to see a marked improvement.

Grinna and me, we have trained for years and you can’t expect to make up for that in a few days or weeks.”

Dawn sighed and hung her head.

“I know, but sometimes I feel so incredibly frustrated. It is as if I get worse instead of better.” She knew she was whining, when instead she simply should be glad that Nestor was taking the time to teach her, but she couldn’t help herself.

Nestor patted her arm good-naturedly and told her.

“It is a natural part of the process. You will get through this, don’t worry.”

Then he took up his sword again and simply said: “Once more, come on.”

When they finished her lesson Dawn was sweaty all over and thoroughly disgruntled. She activated Nurture to get rid of her bruises and determined that she would raise her dexterity as soon as she had a chance. Surely that would help?

The central area of the village was busy now. Several Kharlins sitting at the tables and eating, talking and laughing with each other, Kharma and his sister Nirim were sitting at a table, too, and he called out to her as she went by.

“Dawn, come sit with us. We eat together.” Echo was lying bonelessly in Nirim’s lap, purring up a storm, while Chaos was energetically chasing Ankou’s tail. Dawn could sense Ankou’s frustration with the cubs and decided that it was her turn to keep them occupied for the next few hours. The lynx had taken up the brunt of their care during the last days and had certainly earned some reprieve by now.

She waved to them, feeling her mood lighten and called back:

“I’ll return in a minute, just need to wash up a bit. Let’s play with the cubs afterwards. We need to get rid of some of their energy, poor Ankou is all frazzled already.”

The lynx sent her a grateful glance.

[I can use some peace and quiet for a change. Cubs have simply too much energy.]