The old woman's words had continued to echo in Wynblow's mind as they walked slowly up the mountainside.
Could it be that the person who had given her her name was indeed able to speak the ancient human language?
That would not be surprising, on second thought.
But in that case, this man who had named her must surely have come from the north, where traces of that language were still visible in the population.
Was that why she felt the irrepressible urge to head in that direction?
The northern territories were known to be less populated and wilder than the rest of the continent, but also home to more monsters and humanoid tribes, making it a deadlier place than the rest of the empire.
Most of the continent had been conquered by humans, who then established the Parse Empire, leaving only a few kingdoms and territories unoccupied. Humans had then settled in every corner, further pushing out the other peoples and wild creatures that had once ruled these lands.
All of this she had learned from this man; this information was one of the few things she remembered from the time she had lost her memories.
Looking at the village where she had settled, and the various comings and goings of the villagers and other visitors, she was also convinced that nothing had really changed between that period and the present time.
However, it was quite difficult for her to place in time the moment when she had kept company to this old man. She didn't really have a landmark that could tell her how much time had passed between those two moments, and since she was a monster, she couldn't really ask the first person who came along about human civilization.
Until now.
The old woman Wynblow was accompanying was blind, so she certainly wouldn't run away. Or at least not immediately.
If the dragoness was careful, nothing could betray her Salamander nature. Besides, she could always ask Ewan when they would meet again, for everything else.
So she took this opportunity to do just that.
"Say, ma'am, do you mind if I ask you some questions?" She asked, lowering her neck slightly forward.
"You may call me Orga, young lady," said the old lady still leaning on Wynblow's tail.
"Orga... I see... I've told you before, but I have a rather monstrous appearance, so I don't really get to mingle with others," the dragoness explained.
It wasn't really a lie, anyway. Anyone who saw her from near or far tended to either run away or take up arms.
"Could you tell me more about the state of the human empire?" She said to finish her question.
"The human empire? That's a little vague," Orga said thoughtfully. "But I'll do my best to answer you."
The old woman then stopped walking, causing Wynblow to stop in turn and look to the side.
"Could we take a little break, young lady?" Orga asked. "My back and legs still hurt."
"Yes, of course!" The dragoness replied quickly.
The old woman put her basket on the ground and sat down on a big gray stone covered with silver and blue moss.
"Um, for starters, what exactly do you want to know?" She asked while mopping her forehead with her sleeve.
"Well... First of all, does the empire still extend that far across the continent?"
"The borders haven't moved in almost two hundred years, so I guess it hasn't changed in the last few years either," Orga said. "Although I suppose the potential war with the Kingdom of Barrheng might change that..."
"The Kingdom of Barrheng?" Wynblow repeated curiously.
"There's tension over exports between the two territories, if I believe what some of the villagers have said," Orga explained. "So a war could happen very soon, if no agreement is reached."
"When you say war, is it because the two powers have the same strike force?" inquired Wynblow, "I thought the Parse Empire occupied the entire continent..."
"It does," Orga clarified. "The Kingdom of Barrheng has established itself relatively recently, claiming the lands further north, as well as some of the empire's own territory."
So a new force had been created on the mainland, to compete directly with the empire; right where Wynblow wanted to go.
"And the empire let this happen?" Asked the dragoness.
"They didn't really have a choice," said Orga, dusting off his pants. "Against a nation created by mages, there's not much they can do..."
Mages, huh?
Wynblow suddenly remembered her explanation to the young hunter of the four great types of magic.
Knowledge that had suddenly come back to her, while she was talking with the young man.
This meant that an entire territory was controlled by people who could cast spells on living beings. Since this was advanced magic, there was no doubt that these people also used alchemy.
No matter the time period, magic was always stronger than physical force...
"Does that mean this kingdom is closed to outsiders?" Wynblow asked.
"Why are you so interested in the north, young lady?" Orga asked in return.
The dragoness was a bit taken aback by this direct question, but still managed to formulate an answer.
"I have to go there," she explained. "For personal reasons."
It seemed to her then that Orga's frozen stare was not so passive as she suddenly felt herself being watched, despite the state of the old woman's eyes.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, young lady," Orga said to warn her.
"I don't really have a choice," Wynblow replied, "I have to get there, no matter what."
"If you go, you may die," said the old woman sharply.
Die?
That was a bit strong, after all.
Anyway, given her Salamander nature, risking death was a daily threat, so it wouldn't really change her habits.
However, she could still feel Orga's veiled gaze on her, and wondered for a moment if the elderly woman was really blind.
Perhaps the old woman had sensed her doubt, for she added:
"These eyes may not see physical things anymore, but they can still see some things," Orga said. "And what I see in you is more than disturbing."
"What you... see in me?"
Orga then stood up, leaving the rock she had been resting on, and with her lifeless gaze still on the dragoness, said:
"I see two of them, intertwined," she said. "They interfere with each other."
"Two.... What?" Wynblow asked, his voice full of uncertainty.
Orga then broke into a small smile, which was neither happy nor enthusiastic.
It was the kind of heartbroken smile a person might make to express compassion.
"Young lady, it seems that two separate curses have been cast upon you."