Prophecies and Lies

Chapter Two

Well, things are getting along just fine, don't you think? Writing this stuff is fun too, so I am not regretting my decision to write it--yet :P.

Anyways, enjoy!

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          Nadia and Steven were good company on the wagon; they were nice people and had a few interesting stories to tell about their travels. Their music wasn’t bad either, and they played many a song. Terrance kept them busy with some stories and songs of his own, of course, and the day went by quickly.

          They stopped for the night a while before night began—it was already getting dark though, underneath the gray clouds. They weren’t in the Bigwoods anymore, thankfully, and Steven seemed a bit calmer. Though of course they weren’t completely safe from thugs in the open fields, the odds of an ambush were severely reduced—and when Marc and Terrance offered to share guarding duty for the night, he was completely at ease and calmly played the flute while others set up camp. There was little he could do to help; Terrance and Sarah immediately started pitching up two tents to protect them from the rain, while Marc started on a fire to cook dinner on. Nadia helped him—she was a great cook. The little child, Maya, stayed down in her corner of the wagon, still a bit fearful and shy. Steven tried to lure her out with the appeasing music, but to no avail.

          The smell of food had more effect on the girl; once the campfire was burning properly and Nadia’s stew was coming along nicely, she sniffed as the fragrant air reached her. She glanced at Terrance and gave out a soft whine, stomping with her feet.

          “Smells good, doesn’t it?” Steven asked her—but as soon as he did, she shook her head and did not answer him. He sighed, but would not give up that easily. “Want to get some?”

          For a moment, she was silent. She had hidden her face behind her arms, all wrapped in the brown cloth of the travelling cloak. Then softly, a high-pitch voice came out of the wraps. “I can’t.”

          “Why not?”

          She violently shook her head again. “I can’t tell you.”

          Steven wanted to press on, but changed his mind. It wasn’t polite to pry—and certainly not wise to stick your nose in the business of people nice enough to give you a ride. After all, they might come to reconsider. So he simply shrugged and put away his flute. “Well, if you want to have a bite, I’m sure Nadia won’t mind,” he said and hopped off the wagon.

          The little girl wasn’t left alone for long though; not long after the stew was done, and Marc and Nadia were filling bowls, Terrance snatched a second bowl and brought it to the wagon. While the others sat at the campfire, he ate his dinner with Maya on the wagon.

          Nadia watched it with a bit of curiosity. “What’s their deal?” she asked Marc. The soldier glanced at the wagon for a second, then returned to his stew.

          “Don’t know. Terrance always has something or another…”