After what only felt like three short hours, Leona felt something hard poking at her forehead. Irritated, she swatted it away, but it kept on poking harder until Leona woke up.

Squinting in the pale rosy glow of dawn, she found Jarael crouched beside her holding up two long sticks. Annoyed, Leona sank back into the blankets.

“You can build a fire yourself, Jarael,” said Leona drowsily.

“Wake up, Leona. We’re starting your combat training today,” Jarael said, tapping her on the shoulder.

Leona winced and sat up, face twisted with pain.

“In case you don’t remember,” she said fiercely, “I have a wound on that shoulder. Aren’t you the least tired? I mean, after what you’ve done yesterday I’m quite sure you are. Rest for the day, and then we’ll start playing with those sticks of your tomorrow.” She wrapped the blankets tighter around her.

Jarael stood up and dragged the blanket from Leona.

“Oi!” Leona exclaimed, bolting upright. Jarael folded the blanket neatly and turned to her.

“Get up, I’m not making breakfast until you learn something,” he said, the faint pink light illuminating his face.

“It still doesn’t make sense to me,” Leona said, ruffling her hair in exasperation.

Jarael’s face turned serious, “I’m not playing games with you here, Leona. Suppose the T’lakr finds us and attacks us tonight. Let’s say ten of them come, and I’m occupied with three. What would you do? Hide? I want you to find your own strength and courage, Leona.”

Leona glared at him and snatched one of the sticks he was holding.

“Your stance is all wrong,” Jarael said about two hours later, tapping the stick impatiently against his leg. “Weren’t you listening a while ago? And stop fidgeting. Let’s go through that routine again.”

Leona panted heavily. With arms feeling sore and bruised and legs weak, she dropped the sword to the ground with a clatter. She can’t even hit Jarael properly, let alone get near him enough to actually attack.

“Jarael, I can’t do this. My body is not used to this kind of thing,” Leona whined loudly. Her shoulder stung at all the movements she had to do.

Jarael crossed his arms. “I’ll make one thing clear for you, Leona. I’m absolutely not going soft with you. This is the wilderness, and we are being pursued. In a large scale attack, I would not be able to defend the both of us.”

“Well back at the Fasenpahr you did pretty well with all those T’lakr,” Leona said hotly.

“Well back at the Fasenpahr, I attacked them. What if they attack us?” Jarael said sarcastically. Leona thought hard, unable to stand the fact that Jarael had a point.

“I may be a winged-elf but I am not perfect.”

“Then I’ll create a diversion,” she said shortly.

“Create a diversion or you’re just a coward?” Jarael said sharply, taking a step closer.

“Say that again,” Leona said quietly, she picked up the stick.

Then, Leona thrust the stick at Jarael angrily. The latter quickly blocked the blow. Jarael started to laugh.

“It only take a little provocation to get you motivated, eh?” Jarael said, a dangerous glint in his eye and readying the makeshift sword again.

After another couple hours of reckless sparring, Leona collapsed to the ground, exhausted. A smile broke upon Jarael’s lips as he crouched in front of her.

“You learn fast for a complete beginner, Leona. Especially for a beginner on an empty stomach. That’s a good sign.”

Leona sat up and felt her stomach growling.

“You’ll succeed in killing me one of these days,” Leona said, “Now that I’ve learned something, can we please eat?”

After a quick breakfast, Jarael laid back on the saddle while Leona counted the bruises she accumulated from their little exercise.

“I wonder what’s taking them so long,” Jarael said, picking at a dry blade of grass.

“Last night, I’ve sent a message to the Chawall. I told them that we’re here in Amera and awaiting their reply before we move further. We have to know where they’re heading so that we can catch up or come by them. We can’t look for them on our own since it’ll raise suspicion in the nearby cities,” Jarael said.

“How do you communicate with them in the first place?” Leona as curiously, suddenly remembering the blue fireflies she saw the past night.

“That gets me thinking,” Jarael said sitting up. “Open your hand like this,” he opened his hand palms opened upward. Leona followed him.

Suddenly, a ball of orange light appeared on her palm. Leona screamed as Jarael held on to her wrist. “Quick,” he said, “look at it with the monocle.”

Leona stared anxiously at the flickering ball of fire on her hand as she fumbled in her pocket for the small piece of glass. Finding it, she brought it to her eye.

There, sitting on her palm, was a small human-like creature. It had long limbs and fingers that tapped impatiently on its arms. It had a similarly long face and pointed ears. Its eyes glimmered like pools of black oil. It was orange just like the light enveloping it. The creature shone brightly like a living coal on her hand.

“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.

Jarael smiled broadly, “Ealatona: messenger pixies. It’s how I keep in touch with the other exiles through the years.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Leona said frantically, as the pixie paced her palm.

Jarael thought for a moment. “Tell it this: Shaeryva mial nak stas me daste mra Chawall. Say it with certainty. Mean it.”

Leona looked at him with the same expression of disbelief she had all those days ago.

“Are you sure?” she asked, heart beating wildly and unsure of what to do. Jarael nodded.

“Shaeryva,” Leona began, stuttering, “m-mial nak stas me daste mra Chawall.”

The Ealatona stood and buzzed softly, and then it shoots up into the air and soared off.

Leona watched as the pixy disappeared in the sunlight. Jarael let go of her hand.

“You’re just as special as I thought you would be,” Jarael beamed.

“You’ve summoned the pixies. You can work magic.”

The words lingered around Leona’s ears, “Magic?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Jarael said, standing up and fixing the saddlebags and the saddle, “And with you sending that message, the Chawall will send their reply in no time.”

“I, Shaeryva, wish to know your location, mighty Chawall and am expecting your answer.” Jarael said. Leona gasped.

“But we’re not sure of my identity yet!” she exclaimed.

“I know, I know,” Jarael said impatiently, “That’s why we’re summoning the Chawall as soon as possible. Only they can give us the confirmation we need.”

The day wore on and turned to night. Jarael felt uneasy all the while, looking at the stars every so often. By the time they had eaten dinner and Leona returned to her blankets, he stood awake all night.

The night turned to day again and they continued sparring. Jarael spoke little all throughout the day. Leona was beginning to get nervous herself.

After another two days Jarael almost gave up and told Leona they would travel to Mu’rgith first thing in the morning whether the Chawall arrives or not.

Then by late afternoon, Leona stood up as she saw hazy images on the horizon.

“Jarael,” she said alarmed, as she squinted into the rapidly fading light, “are those T’lakr or is it just a mirage?”

Jarael came up beside her and squinted as well. Instead, he brightened up.

In the horizon, a caravan slowly made its way towards them. Five wagons pulled by two horses each wobbled their way on the rocky field. It was early evening when the wagons stopped by where Leona and Jarael stood.

Leona gaped at the colorful and ornately-decorated wagons parked in front of them. A man and woman sat behind the horses and pulled at the reins before jumping down to the ground and smiled as Jarael welcomed them with open arms.

“Anthea,” Jarael said, as the woman held him in a tight embrace.

“Jarael, it’s been so very, very long since I’ve last seen you, my boy,” the woman, Anthea, said in a warm tone. Leona looked at her.

She had long locks of dark, curly hair partly hidden in the orange tasseled scarf she wound around her head. She wore an orange gauzy tunic that hid her arms and feet. On her wrists were large golden bangles and bejeweled rings glinted on her fingers.

The man had the same dark hair and wore an embroidered purple jacket over a white linen shirt. He wore black boots that came up to the knee of his brown trousers. He unhooked the horses from the caravan and pulled down a flight of steps to the little door behind their seats.

“This,” Jarael announced, “is the one I’ve told you about, Anthea. The trace memories were there. And she can work magic.”

Anthea looked at Leona. She touched Leona’s cheek and tilted it slightly towards the fading sunset.

“I can feel magic pulsate through her,” Anthea said languorously, “But if it really is her, we’ll know later. We’ll consider the test after the others have gone to sleep.” She smiled as she patted Leona’s cheek and led them around the circle of caravans.

Men and women began to come out of the caravans. They wore colorful clothes like that of Anthea’s. Leona observed them in wonder and amazement.

They had begun to bring firewood to the space within the caravans. Leona instinctively brought out the monocle and hesitated before she looked through them, afraid of what she’ll see next.

Leona gasped as she saw some of the women showed the same inky black eyes the Ealatona had. They had outrageously colored hair and skin. Some had green, others purple. Leona even saw men with vermillion hair that reminded her strongly of Ramadak, she felt a vein throb on her temple. She pocketed the monocle.

Jarael waved at her and disappeared within a wagon and left Leona to explore the camp.

Suddenly, a hand caught her arm and a familiar voice spoke behind her.

Leona whipped around and yanked out Jarael’s dagger strapped to her hip. She almost dug the knife in the speaker’s neck when she saw who it was.

True enough, Tavus stood in the dark, looking tired and grimy. His clothes were patched at some parts. Still, he tensed as Leona almost stabbed him in the neck with a dagger.

“You’ve never been that agitated before,” he said as Leona returned the dagger to her hip.

“Jarael’s been teaching me to be alert at all times,” Leona said sheepishly, “What happened to you? I told you not to follow me.”

Tavus shrugged. “How could I resist not following you?” he said as he led Leona away from the already blazing fire in the middle of camp. He waved to a man from the green wagon and asked if they can enter inside. The man nodded and Tavus helped Leona enter the small cramped space inside.

The air faintly smelled of lavender and incense. The little space was decorated with flowers, and colorful bows hung from all the drapery that covered the bed and the sparse furniture. Leona sat on the low bench just by the door.

Tavus lighted a small lantern and bathed the space with a warm orange light. He turned to Leona looking grave.

“Did you know of all the trouble I had to go through just to find you here?” he said, “When I read your note, I immediately knew something was wrong. I rode my horse out of Glavonica and tried to follow the soldiers going south because they were chasing some outlaws. I knew from their descriptions that they were following you. I followed them to Faimeh and began asking around. They thought I was an accomplice and had me thrown in prison.”

“What?” Leona said, aghast.

“Let me continue. I broke out that night and escaped from Faimeh as fast as I could. I didn’t even have time to pass by my mentor’s house. Then I rode around the Tu’uhn Lake and I found these people. I asked them if they saw you, and they let me come along to look for you. In the condition I allowed them to borrow my horse to pull this very wagon. If they hadn’t let me on, the soldiers of the King would’ve had me back in prison. Or they would hire men to search for me with a big bounty for my head.”

Leona gaped at him wordlessly. “Does Bonn Vedir know about this?”

Tavus shook his head, “No, but I expect that he’ll know by now.”

Leona stared at him, dumbstruck at everything he underwent in the few days since that night in Glavonica.

“You,” Tavus said, “owe me an explanation.”

Leona hesitated, and then told him everything that has happened. When she finished, Tavus almost exploded.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Leona retorted. “If I want to find out where grandma and grandpa are, I’ll have to stick with Jarael. He too wants to find grandma and grandpa. He even saved me from the King.”

“We can just ask the authorities where they are.”

“I’ve already told you, we went to the jailhouse in Glavonica disguised. And grandma and grandpa are not there. And, the King himself is after my head!”

Tavus fell silent. Then buried his head in his hands.

“What have we gotten ourselves into? We should’ve let him die in the forest.”

“Don’t say that,” Leona said, horrified, “Jarael is still a good person. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing no matter how dubious it seems. And without him, who knows what will happen to us three years from now.”

“I’m still not convinced,” Tavus said shortly.

“Anthea will tell us the truth later.”

“I know all about the Fall. But through the years, few have remained to believe in it and submitted themselves to the King’s dictatorship.”

“All legends have some truth behind them.”

Just then, the door opened beside them. A young woman in a frilly pink smock appeared and addressed Leona and Tavus.

“Come, the revelers are going to start their performance,” she said brightly.

“Well continue this later, Leona,” Tavus said, climbing down the steps.

Reluctant and disappointed, Leona followed him.