Nolan crashed on the bench far from the table where the old woman was. She was watching Nolan, with one-eye, and she was inspecting Ciara’s pulse.

“Your husband’s a mute?”

“He’s silent,” Ciara said. “He has been like that for a month.”

She concocted a potion, “Drink this, dear. It’ll make you feel better.”

“I feel fine, but I will,” she drank, she puckered her lips. “Sour and bitter, and is that honey?”

“Yes, it is,” the old woman smiled, wipes her forehead with her forearm. “You came from the North? Ruby eyes, and ashen hair. Rarer as it can, considering that there is war up north. Explains a lot, why you’d risk travel in that position.”

The old woman adjusted her sleeves, “I am Latia, Herbalist and Village Healer. And you are?”

“Ciara,” she said, “my name is Ciara Salvatore.”

“I see,” she nodded, “Ciara Salvatore, what brings you to this village along with your husband?”

“He’s Nolan Salvatore, he had been like that, but that is not my concern. Can you tell me about where we are? I’d like to know where we are going, he’s dragging me along.”

“Aye, forceful one isn’t he, for a silent one.”

“That’s right,” Ciara rubbed her belly. “Where are we anyway?”

“Oriental Region, Sagan Village. A long way from home,”

Ciara looked down, a bitter smile on her face, “Yes, far from home, that we are.”

Latia held her pipe and tapped it, “So what brought you here? Winter’s coming, and you choose to travel this far? Quite dangerous, with all the monsters and bandits.”

“My husband took care of them,” Ciara looked at statue-like Nolan. “He’s dependable despite what he states right now. Didn’t see this one coming, though.”

Latia smiled wickedly, “You are a wicked woman, I like it. Better than the daydreaming girls, wishing for things they should have done. Are you planning to stay here?”

Ciara turned her head towards Nolan. He was listless, his eyes looking at space, he doesn’t blink and he simply stares at something that doesn’t exist.

“Is he bewitched? Did you bewitch him?”

“I did not. He had been in a trance after a night in an inn. Never spoke a word, never said anything. All he does is pull me around everywhere.”

“There’s a house near the stream, the villagers here are curious, but never stupid. Travelers come and go, but they don’t stay here too long, they’d rather go to the Golden City, and lived there instead,” she brushed her hand on the uneven table. “You can here as long as you like, until the winter’s winds are gone, or a few days. Aye, I can see two weary souls before me, and the only thing I can do is offer you the safety of this village.”

“Why so nice?” Ciara asked brows pointed to Latia. “We’ve been here for not an hour and you are offering us a home to stay.”

Latia looked at Ciara’s belly with a warm gaze, “I’m a healer, child, I heal things and do you think I can leave you three alone?”

“No,” Ciara thinly smiled. “You don’t look like the type who would do that.”

“That’s right, so, I will talk to the village head, he will understand, no, he would understand because it's me. Not the first time isn’t it?”

A shadow was cast on Ciara’s face. “Yes, not the first time indeed.”

***

Ciara stood from her seat and wrapped her cloak around her body. Nolan walked to her, eyes glaring, no, scrutinizing her, but every time he looked at her belly, that glare, that scrutinizing glare would smoothen. Nolan offered his hand, and she took it. He led her out of Latia’s house and made her stay near him. He untied the horse, wrapped the reins around his wrist, and pulled the horse and Ciara to where the village head was.

The village head lived on a longhouse located on the center of the village. The roofs were straw, the wooden walls were a mix of bamboo and stone wood nailed together. Inside the longhouse was a long table and Latia, she was speaking to the village head, whose skin was rather pale, and he fashioned a fez hat with a feather on it.

“Ah, the two, and quite the woman, burnt mark, and the belly, hmm,” the village head rubbed his chin. “I get it, if I don’t let you stay then I’d be a cruel man. Is that what you want to her, Latia?”

“That’s all. And, would you mind if they have some wood? Ciara, dear, can your man chop woods?”

“He can chop anyone easily, he can do that.”

“A warrior eh, that is reassuring to hear. All the boys have gone to war, and most of them weren’t satisfied to stay in our village. Always headed to the shining city basked by the sun. Welcome to Sagan,” the village head nodded at them. “I hope that you find your stay in our humble village a satisfying one.”

Latia led Nolan and Ciara to the house near the stream. On the back of the house was a river, white dirt, boulders, and strange colored fishes were climbing the stream leading up to the mountain. On the left of the house was a patch of flowers, with a view of the bamboo forest and the rice paddies being shone by the sun’s light.

Latia unlocked the door of the house. It was furnished, barely any dust, and there was a small kitchen that could be seen on the front of the house. There was a fireplace in the middle, alongside a box of sand where they could place a campfire. Latia went out of the house and walked back to her house. Nolan tied the horse near the house, before taking the saddlebags with him inside the house. He glanced at the two beds, and then went back outside to sit on the patch of flowers, staring blankly at the dancing bamboo forest.

She inhaled cold air, preventing a sob from escaping her, like a voice that won’t come out. She steeled herself, fist clenched, she walked to the rocking chair and swayed, humming, caressing her belly.