Medicine | King Baldwin

3

In the bustling streets of Jerusalem, Isabel and Jurian stood facing each other in front of the cottage. The air was charged with a mix of excitement and apprehension as Jurian prepared to embark on his journey to Egypt.

Isabel clasped Jurian's hands tightly in hers, her eyes reflecting the flickering light of the sun that illuminated the narrow streets.

"Stay safe." she implored, her voice tinged with worry. Jurian smiled warmly, his gaze unwavering as he met Isabel's concerned eyes.

"I will." he reassured her, his tone imbued with determination.

"I'll miss you." Isabel admitted, her voice barely above a whisper as she fought to suppress the emotions swelling within her.Jurian squeezed Isabel's hands gently, offering her a reassuring smile.

"And I'll miss you, dear friend. But this journey is something I must undertake," he said, his words laced with conviction. As the sounds of the city enveloped them, Isabel and Jurian shared a moment of silent understanding.

"Take care, my son," Bathilda said, her words carrying the weight of their recent reunion and the imminent parting that now lay before them. Jurian turned to face Bathilda, his heart heavy with the realization that their time together was once again drawing to a close.

"I will." Jurian replied, his voice soft but resolute. The older woman smiled through the veil of sadness that shrouded her expression, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"May the path ahead be illuminated by hope and blessed with safe passage." She said her final words.

With a final embrace, Jurian bid farewell to them, his resolve unwavering as he set forth on his voyage to Egypt, leaving behind the familiar streets of Jerusalem and a dear friend who would eagerly await his return.

Isabel found solace in the routine of her days following Jurian's departure. With a steadfast determination, she threw herself into her work, tending to her wares with care and precision. Each morning found her setting up her stall in the bustling city market, the aroma of spices and the clamor of merchants mingling in the air.

Amidst the flurry of activity, Isabel greeted familiar faces with a warm smile, her spirits buoyed by the camaraderie of her fellow traders. Though her thoughts often drifted to Jurian and his journey afar, she drew strength from the rhythm of her daily routine, finding comfort in the familiarity of her surroundings.

As Isabel packed her remaining wares and began her walk homeward, just as usual, a peculiar sensation prickled at the back of her neck, as if a pair of unseen eyes were fixed upon her. Despite the bustling streets gradually quieting with the descent of dusk, an unsettling presence seemed to linger in the shadows, casting a veil of unease over her surroundings.

With each step, Isabel's senses sharpened, attuned to the slightest rustle or whisper that betrayed the presence of another. The familiar route home suddenly felt unfamiliar, each shadow elongating into ominous shapes that danced at the edge of her vision.

Heart pounding, Isabel quickened her pace, the rhythmic echo of her footsteps reverberating against the cobblestones. Every instinct screamed for her to seek refuge, to escape the invisible gaze that seemed to follow her every move.

As she rounded a corner, a fleeting glimpse of movement caught her eye, a shadowy figure melting into the darkness with practiced ease. Panic surged within her chest, but before she could react, a voice sliced through the silence, making Isabel shiver slightly.

"Don't run so fast, my lady," the stranger taunted, his voice a sinister whisper on the evening breeze. His words dripped with malice, sending a chill racing down Isabel's spine.