Company of the East Road

“Hail, stranger!” I called to the man who approached Ithilwe and I.

It was like tracking a wounded animal. The blood had left a vibrant trail on the pale snow, followed by deep and staggered prints. He was close, hopefully face down in a a berm as it was never easy tracking or fighting those of his family.

Though not much which anyone else would note had happened, the past couple of weeks had been unusual for Daphne.
The Waymeet Market seemed to have gone fairly well, despite the appearance of a couple shady characters, and her load had been decently light for the weeks past.

I thought I was too old to be in love. Most of my kin are married once, and by the age of their maturity - around one hundred years old. To not be married by then is considered queer, or as if fate had another plan. 

I assumed, that after nearly seven thousand years, fate simply had another plan. 

Discarded in the corner of the upper room of the Company house is a note. The paper was balled up and tossed aside, though if one were to smooth it out...

No matter which way I lay on my bed, I cannot escape the dull ache of pain in my shoulder. I feel a quiet hiss of discomfort pass my lips - though I am still grateful, as it is not nearly as pained as it was before I allowed Ithilwe to treat it.  Perhaps recounting my day until this point will help lull me to sleep...

The first thing I heard was the crashing of waves along the shoreline. The sound was hypnotizing but arrhythmic, no true pattern to be discerned as the ocean crests and falls. It soothes a longing in my soul. I heard the cries of seagulls as they flew overhead, sharp and piercing, but familiar.