Erlebnisse

Reality

My first thought upon waking up revolves around the softness of the blanket stretching over my whole body. The luxurious texture nearly lulls me back to sleep, but no, something remains...I have a mission, I am sure of it. What am I doing here? I attempt to sit up and take stock of my surroundings, but immediately come into contact with a quite substantial slatted ceiling. Something wet drips onto my nose. Rain?

"Yes, go ahead and alert the entire province of our position, why don't you!"

Ah, the stirring compassion of Bren Matthews never ceases to touch even the coldest heart. I ought to snap back at him, give him a verbal fight to set my father beaming, but in that instant the fragmented, grey memories seep back into my ringing skull.

"How do you feel, Missie?" My mother moves to the edge of my vision, her hand tightly folded into mine.

"Deeply disturbed, but, I think, well enough. Would anyone care to tell me where we are?" A quick twist around confirms nothing about our hideaway.

"Foln's Dagger," a youthfully old voice rasps from a corner behind me.

Veeron.

"This inn lies on one of the lesser known side roads leading to Central. Bren helped the owner through a tough financial case once, and the woman offered secretive lodging and sealed lips."

"I suppose it doesn't get more secretive than this."

"We've been through this, Mrs. Obliss. Please, drop the subject and return to your carving."

My mother, to my great delight, levels an icy glare in Bren's direction. The single candle in the low-ceilinged room throws a dangerous light on the seated woman's small carving knife.

"You deserve a nice slice across that pouting cheek of yours, Mr. Matthews."

"They're both worried for you, Miss Obliss, if they fail to show it." Mr. Jault tosses the naked statement onto the floor space between us, his tone matter-of-fact and flat.

"My concern right now, Veeron, lies with our collective safety, not the singular issues of any one troubled individual."

Troubled?

"I assure you we are quite out of the way here."

"Which is exactly the problem. No huntsman with even half a brain would expect us to travel along the main road. Whoever leads the search party will surely pay our "secretive" place a visit eventually."

"And in that indefinite word we will place our trust. Before our trackers even hear about this inn we shall be miles away. If they would not consider us stupid enough to take the main highway, do you not also think we could travel along that road? If they are as you say, would it not be the safest route?"

"Arg!" Bren drags a hand down his tightened face. "We would not even be in this mess if not for the scandalous murder hanging over our heads. You know, I had planned to take the main road originally, but obviously previous events now complicate things."

"Am I such an inconvenience to you, Mr. Matthews?" The reckless insensitivity of the man undoes every scrap of calm I have worked so hard to build. "If memory serves, you did ask me along on this case."

"And it involves you as much as myself, Ms. Obliss, so do not pretend detachment from everything going on. I know you care about the outcome of this mission as much as anyone here, if not more."