Awenela trunks had been lined against the oak shelves. She looks around her room for the first time in three maidens; it’s been well kept—her trinkets and knickknacks, books, and busts she keeps on her shelf are free of dust. A stack of parcels sits on her desk, things she had sent for while she was gone. Asking Enlynn for help, they move the two red trunks to the exterior wall and open them. Books line the outer walls of both, followed by a layer of clothes on the bottom and an eclectic mix of souvenirs sitting on top.

  ?nnywella sits down at the foot of Awenela’s bed. “Did your brother help you pack?”

  “What gave it away?”

  “Everything, but the books are particularly damning.”

  “He said it would be extra protection; less room for things to roll around in.” Awenela removes the souvenirs one by one, carefully handing them to Enlynn, who places them on the desk.

  “So I saw the ships; they are quite something to behold.” Says Awenela.

  “What do you mean you saw the ships; did you travel to Myr?’s Dreshkan [1]?”

  The lids of the chests begins to fall, slamming shut; Awenela, luckily, did not have her hand inside.

  Awenela breathes a sigh of relief, and ?nnywella quickly apologizes. “No, I never left the borders; I saw them off the coast of Ianor?, not close; I had to use my father’s telescope to see them. They are gorgeous ships, all matching—royal blue hulls, and... uhhh... the area below the windows of the different floors was gold.” Her father had told her what they were called, but she had since forgotten.

  ?nnywella scrunches her face, extremely displeased with what she believes to be a show of force from Nefen. They might not have been in her waters, but they have no reason to be there in the first place, nearly 500 km from M?schan and 300 km from the border separating her territory from the H?sshagens. She must know the reason behind this. “Do you have any idea where they were going?”

  “I only saw them briefly; it would be best to ask my father.” Brenwal, Awenela’s father, is quite fond of anything and everything to do with sailing and the sea, to the point where it has put a strain on the relationship of her parents. She goes back to remove items from the trunks, beginning to hang clothing from the brass rack next to her shelves.

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  ?nnywella nods, making a mental note that she must write Brenwal.

  Awenela removes a book from the side of the trunk, handing it to ?nnywella; it’s bound in brown leather, with gold leaf details on the front and back; the title on the thick spin reads: An Elegy for Helana Yllgren [2], Sylwan Kalfoll [3].

  “I’ve never heard of this book—is it new?” Asks ?nnywella.

  “Yes, in a way; it’s a test print. There should be a letter in there for you.”

  ?nnywella opens the book, finding the letter at the end. “How did you manage to get this?”

  “My father has recently become a friend of Sylwan; I told him that you were quite the fan. He returned for dinner about two weeks later with that and told me to give it to you.” Says Awenela.

  ?nnywella, leaving the letter inside, closes the book; she will read it later. “Thank you, Nora.”

  “And this is for you, Konstanze.” Awenela hands Enlynn a plush bag containing what appears to be a book.

  Dread slowly fills Enlynn as she takes the gift; it is heavy in her hand and larger than the book given to ?nnywella. A cruel joke surely, she has no way of ever making it through something like this. She removes the object and quickly recognizes it by the two metal clasps. She is relieved; it’s not a book, but a pressed flower box.

  “I know better than to get you a book of that size.” Remarks Awenela, watching Enlynn open the box.

  Enlynn gasps. “Blue Coastal Orchids! Thank you!” She smiles, looking at the blue flowers, which lie compressed on a piece of parchment. She has been wanting this specific flower for quite a while, but her pride has made her unable to go and purchase it.

  Awenela stands from the chest and hangs the last piece of clothing on the rack—leaving only books in the two trunks; stepping back, she gestures to the rack, like a street magician finishing a trick. “Two for each of you—and Mina, when she gets back.” She shows off two of the dresses, both made by her sister; ?nnywella and Enlynn both nod in approval, both pleased by the colors and fabric, but they never doubted Alavena, as they had never been disappointed by her work before.

  She slides the dress for Ede to the left and points to the four dresses that remain. “I’ll show you these when Mina gets back.”

  Footnotes

  [1] Myr?’s Dreshkan (pronounced: MIHR-?h’s DRESHK-an) is the second largest coastal city in Iania. Named after Myr?, the goddess of the rivers, the name translated from the old tongue would be The Drain of Myr?. Because of the tedium that comes with saying Myr?, people have taken to calling the town M?shkan (pronounced: M?HSHK-an). The last recorded population was 58,923 in 1057EotG.

  [2] Written between 1054 and 1062, An Elegy for Helana Yllgren is an experimental novel centering on the relationships between Helana and those closest to her.

  [3] Sylwan Kalfoll (997EotG-Current). A popular and controversial author from the northeast of Iania. He has garnered widespread praise—as well as harsh criticism—for his unique and experimental approach to storytelling. He is most known for his 1043 work, A Pale Rose.