It was raining that morning. Not strongly, but such an unpleasant slush that makes you feel drenched to the point you believe to be dissolving in the water.
They've been on the road since yesterday. The track led north. On the way, a cart drawn by a fat horse passed them, and Setia regretted losing her own horse. Unfortunately, she was already penniless. She spent the money hidden in the upper of her shoe at the first inn she encountered. No, she wasn't wasteful, it was Moros who got sick after leaving the swamp. "Swamp fever," said an experienced elder healer who lived near the village of Parensa bordering on the marshes, "you need to sweat to get over it so the young man needs to rest. You have to prepare the drinks. repeated the elder, and stretched out a thin, crooked hand for her money. She paid. She paid for the stay at the inn, for the modest clothes, for the bath, for the herbs again, for the bottle of wine she drank in a fit of helpless anger, for the bottle of wine she drank out of boredom, for the bottle she drank out of a habit, enough that after more than two weeks she was without money.
Moros was wanderering happily whistling beside her. He felt fine now, had recovered from the long stay in the swamps, had a full belly and warm clothes. When he came to himself, Setia had to admit that she had not seen a more beautiful man. His hair was a little curly, he had fine white teeth and dimples in his cheeks when he smiled. He was adorable and gladly announced that he would accompany her because he had nowhere else to go. He also told her that he was an escaped slave.
The terrain was slowly changing. So far, they had been following a well-trodden route, but after leaving the forest, she knew that she would have to turn to the path leading east. This path was right next to a large limestone mountain. They were now surrounded by fields where grain was greening, the time of harvest seemed to come soon. Setia inhaled the smell of wet earth, the rain stopped and the first rays of the sun broke through the cloudy sky. After a while, a well-known yellow and white stone appeared to their eyes, clearly distinguishing itself from the surrounding greenery.
"We have to turn here," she pointed to the stone
Without a word, Moros moved in the indicated direction. Behind the stone was a winding muddy road with deep ruts. Tall grass grew on the sides of the road, and here and there you could see single bushes dotted with white flowers.
"Where are we actually going?" asked Moros, nimbly maneuvering between two puddles.
"To Hiron, he takes care of my property" - Setia didn't feel like confiding - "Tell me how did it happen that you became a slave?" She decided to change the subject.
"Father sold me. I was born in Gemor, there were eleven of us, and my parents didn't have enough money to feed us all."
"Shit"- said Setia after stepping into a deep puddle. She could feel the free flow of water in her shoe.
"No, I no longer have a grudge against my parents, a buyer was found, but he only wanted me. I was 6 years old then" - Moros sighed - "I would probably work in the field or in the forest now. Somehow being a slave made my life richer. I can read and write. I can use a bow and I have visited two principalities." There was a hint of pride in his voice.
"You are an incorrigible optimist, Moros." - Setia corrected her hair falling on her forehead - "I don't think I could forgive something like that so easily."
"It's in the past, it's been 15 years since I was sold, sometimes I think about what's going on at home, but I know I have nowhere to go back to." Moros smiled and jumped over the puddle. - "And you, why did you become a mercenary?"
- My father, Setes, was a squad leader. I have always known that I will be part of it too. My father trained me from an early age, and when I turned14 I took part in the first fight" - Setia looked around, it was dusk. A bright band of Judgor appeared in front of them. There were occasional limestone rocks in the grassy expanses that surrounded them. They had to speed up if they wanted to make it for the night - "Let's go faster, it's not far away" she urged her companion.
"And your mother?" asked Moros
"I didn't know her." She died and her father did not want to talk about her. Setia thought about it, she only remembered her mother's name Alena.
The path they followed changed from muddy to more stony, the bright rocks were getting closer. They're about to enter White Canyon. She liked this place, the rocks and jagged boulders forming a unique puzzle here, as if a giant child had accidentally spilled its blocks. Single boulders rose straight from the grassy terrain, then merged into one massif. In these limestone rocks there were numerous caves and grottos. It was a place full of nooks and crannies. She knew them well, she spent several years of her life here, living with Hiron. The road they were now walking was an old riverbed. Mountain ranges like Judgor, Arpiny, Natanor, and Karsen were Hadgard's inner defense chain, her father used to say. She knew that one of the battles for Hadgard had taken place here. Here, the united forces of Hadgard defended themselves against the invaders from Katamir. But that was long ago when Jadnar ruled over all the principalities and they were not divided. The capital of Hadgard was placed in Kanror then, the Kanror that had cost her so much.
But Judgor and White Canyon had another meaning for her, it was here that her father and she stored their fortune, and there was a lot of it. So a new chapter of her life will begin here. It was almost dark when Setia stopped next to the soaring rock. It was overgrown with moss and sedge, but Setia unmistakably found on it the trace of two crescents carved together.
"This is the sign." She said almost in a whisper, turning to Moros, "We're here."