After being driven from the café for their disturbance, Morana, Cormag and Chauncey wandered in silence until finding another tea house further into town. Cormag went in search of information on the road and state of the war from a local Mercenary Guild Hall, leaving Chauncey to order tea and food for their increasingly enigmatic mage companion.

Morana sat outside on the bench in front of the tea house, trying in vain to recreate the magic she had earlier used. It was not the first time she had been able to manifest spells without incantation or glyph. She channeled her mana to her finger and drew a complex glyph of ice and wind in the air before her. The glyph shimmered in the chill air, glowing a pale bluish green, evoking memories of a forest in winter. With a sigh, she released the glyph, and it vanished in a small gust of cold air and ice crystals.

During her training under Master Drogo, the ancient Lich whom she had been promised to as a protégé by some ancestor, she had manifested the same power, and he expressed the same Fear as Cormag. Ever since then, she had tried and failed to replicate it, even going so far as to cast wind and frost magic to the point of exhaustion in an attempt to awaken whatever it was within her that provided this power.

Morana took a sip from her now lukewarm cup of coffee and grimaced. “Hmmmm…this coffee tastes like still pond water…”

“Yeah, you’d think they’d bring out an espresso machine or something.”

A woman no older than Morana took a seat on the bench beside her. She was dressed in a leather bodice over a white blouse, black leather pants, and a dusty grey woolen cloak. Her reddish-brown hair was shorn close like a boys on the right, falling to her shoulder on her left. She wore piercings on her eyebrow and down her ear in the fashion of the Colby-Nau elves but was undeniably human.

The woman took a sip of her own cup of steaming liquid. “But I guess the soldiers stationed here don’t have such refined palates as that.”

“I feel it has more to do with what the shop owners believe to be the cheapest swill they can get away with selling.” Morana replied dryly, dumping the contents of her cup onto the ground.

“Aye, that too.” The young woman smiles. “My name is Felicity, and yours?”

 “Morana, though I doubt either of us will remember the other.”

Felicity laughed aloud. “I suppose that’s true, but convention, you know?”

 “Yes.” Morana grumbled. “It can be quite annoying…”

 “Ha. Sometimes.”

Felicity takes another sip of coffee and leans back against the wall, revealing a bandolier of too many pouches and two daggers at her hips.

“So, Morana was it?” She said, noticing Morana’s appraisal of her. “Were you named after the sister?”

“The sister? As far as I am aware, I was an only child.”

Felicity laughed and shook her head. “No, no, the goddess.”

Felicty pointed towards the thin sliver of sky, and Morana instantly understood her meaning. Each season was ruled by a patron goddess, and each goddess had a planet in the heavens. Each season, a new planet would fall into place to form a constellation, called the sisters. Lihn, the goddess of spring and fertility, Enyo, the goddess of summer and youth, and Malady, the goddess of autumn harvests and decay or old age. Then there was Morana, twin sister to Lihn, she was the goddess of Death and winter, the outcast of the quartet.  She was often depicted as both a beautiful youth and a decrepit hag in one to symbolize the end and beginning of a year that occurs in her season. Her master had often spoken of the sisters, but he rarely mentioned the goddess of winter, and certainly never by name. He only referred to her in crude and ancient curses, as if he had a personal history with the divine being.

“So the winter star, her name is Morana as well?”

Felicity nodded. “Mmhm. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her, while most fear the goddess of death and winter, the people of Thiudoricus are devout followers.”

Morana suddenly recalled the Tavern master’s odd statement of how she should ‘be right at home in the cold’.

“Hmm. How interesting…”

 “So, what brings you to Merric Pass? Only people that come through this way these days are mercenaries looking for their fortunes. And forgive me for noticing, but you and your companions don’t look like refugees.” Felicity raises her cup to take another drink, watching Morana from the corner of her eye.

“Perceptive.” Morana’s gaze was stoically fixed ahead, staring at nothing in particular. “You are either a thief or a spy.”

Felicity spat out her coffee in surprise at both the straightforward delivery and accuracy of her statement.

Morana slowly turns her cold gaze to her new companion. “However, to save unnecessary trouble, none of us have information or money, so another target might be in order.”

Felicity wipes her mouth on her cloak, shivering at both the delivery and implications of Morana’s message. “I’m not a spy.”

Morana shrugs and turns her gaze back towards the road. “Changes not the fact that we have no money.”

 “I’m not…that other thing either.” Not really at least she thought as she nervously shifted her weight on the bench. “I’m just looking to get away from an ex for a while.”

Morana perked up and took on a more friendly tone. “Oh? Would you happen to have a lock of his hair? A scrap of clothing perhaps? I would be willing to cast a hex upon him, for a nominal fee of course.”

Felicity leaned back as Morana continued to press towards her. “No, no, I’ll pass thanks. We just…need some space that’s not in the castle dungeons…”

“I’m sorry, you were mumbling that last bit.”

Felicity forced a smile and dismissed her with a wave of the hand. “Oh, nothing, really.”

Felicity attempts to scoot further away but bumps up against the wall as Morana continues to lean forward, staring at her with a piercing gaze.

 “Ummm…hi…” Felicity attempted to look away but could not escape the oppressive stare. “is…something on my face.”

Morana is silent for nearly a minute before responding. “No…but I’ve decided.”

“Decided what?”

 “You shall be my first female friend.”

 “Oh…how lovely.” As Felicity tries to scoot away again, Morana moves in closer. “You’re a bit close aren’t you?"

This chick is seriously freaking me out Felicity thought as she franticly began searching for a way out.

 “I’ve never had any girlfriends.” Morana says matter-of-factly, “I spent most of my time in the swamps alone or with Master Drogo.”

ok, that’s definitely weird, sad, but weird as hell is what she thought, but settled on saying “I’m, sorry to hear that…look, I actually should be—”

“So, do you want to talk about menstruation?” Morana blurted excitedly.

Felicity fell from her seat. “What?!”

“The only times I’ve spoken with a woman was when master Drogo summoned another instructor to teach me about menstruation.  I just assumed that’s what women talked about.”

Felicity scrambled to her feet and began to carefully back away. “Well it’s not!”

Morana places her hand to her chest and lets out a sigh. “Oh, that’s a relief.”

 “What’s this? A new friend?" Cormag said in a sing-song mocking voice. "No, knowing you, it’s probably a hostage.”

Felicity inadvertently backed into Cormag, who placed a hand on her shoulder to still her surprise. She spun around and pushed herself back using a fencer’s footwork technique, her hands darted towards the daggers at her hips. Terror and panic gripped her upon recognizing his uniform as a Thiudorican Knights.

“Oh shit! That guys a knight! I need to get outta here!” She thought, her eyes darting around in search of an escape.

Morana rolled her eyes and embraced Felicity from behind, causing the woman to shudder and squirm like a cornered cat. “Friend, and it wouldn’t be called a hostage if I were keeping her close for her own good either.”

ok, time to go thought as she nimbly slipped from Morana’s embrace and effortlessly put three meters distance between them. “Well, it was very nice to meet you both, but I am afraid I really must be going. Goodbye!”

Before either could say another word, Felicity had raised her hood and disappeared into the crowd.

Cormag scratched his head as he watched the growing stream of people pass by. “That reaction honestly seems rather fitting for someone who spent a few minutes alone with you.”

“Damn it…” Morana swore, fighting back hot, stinging tears.

Sensing he may have gone too far, Cormag sighed and sets down the rucksack. “What I mean is…well, sometimes…it takes a little while for people to get you is all…”

Morana him a glare of equal parts confounded and annoyed. “What? I don’t care about that! I’m upset I didn’t get to snag a lock of her hair, that way it wouldn’t have mattered if she ran. Or tried to run anyway.”

Cormag threw up his hands and walked away. “I don’t even know why I bother.”