It was over a year ago when she vanished in the Riddermark, and I have chased her ghost ever since. Father would tell us that a teacher may be proud when his student surpasses him, yet I was not proud, instead maddened. When her letter came it was as much as relief as it was exasperating, and I brooked no delay setting out to join her again.
"We must to Bree," she would explain, and I would not find myself able to deny her, even if I could not understand why. Map after map displayed, gone over, painstaking. Why was it Bree, again and again? It would not be a short journey, there were stops along the way, and partings as well. Yet we would rejoin, and purpose found.
"Go with them, please," she bade. Little could she explain, but, enough, and so I did. So I do, still. We cannot know what fate will bring, save the notion that we are here for a reason, and it may become clear. They at least seem good people.
The captain seems purposeful, though what will come of his guidance remains to be seen. Pointed and ever searching, for what I cannot say, but one cannot expect that easy will be any part of it. The treasure hunter eager, quick, a sharp thing, of whom I find no sense of doubt upon which to place. The bard, less certain, perhaps a hope yet also a trepidation. Hovering about edges, but who would I be to judge another for maintaining an arms length?
More still, come and go. To what end I cannot know, yet the journey promised, we shall see where we find ourselves. Perhaps among friends. That much, I am willing to hope. She at least, in all this, seems to be feeling somewhat less alone.
