“So, you two are the guards for the caravan?” I ask Sara and Cora, who I’m sat in the back of the caravan with, Gregor seemingly having something important he needed to discuss with David.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Sara answers, “Gregor will spin you a tale about how he’s ‘plenty capable’ but he hired us both for a reason.”

  “Oh, he hired you both at the same time?” I ask.

  “He sure did,” Cora says, grinning. “Me and the girly here come as a pair. Don’t get one without the other, you see.”

  “Oh!” I exclaim, “are you two a… um, a thing?”

  Sara blushes and immediately shakes her head and her hands, “No, no, no! Just best friends, Paige!” she says, voice raised a little and a blush colouring her cheeks. Cora just looks at her with that same grin as it grows even wider. “Anyway, what about you Paige, what’s your story?” Sara asks me, recovering from her brief embarrassment.

  “Well… there’s not much to tell I’m afraid. Raised in an orphanage in Solcept, aged out and did what I could to survive. And now I need to leave the city, so I left and that’s where you found me.” I reply, asking beyond hope that they don’t want me to elaborate on why I had to leave the city.

  But Sara simply gives me a sympathetic look. “That’s rough,” she says gently.

  I simply nod, not sure what else to say here. I settle on one of the few things I enjoyed from my time in the orphanage. “When I was younger, a visitor donated a few art supplies to the orphanage and I was given a small sheaf of paper and a pencil for sketching.” I tell them, my fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the blue gem around my neck as I do. “I used to love that, but eventually all the papers were filled and the pencil worn down to nothing—and I had no way of replacing it—so I didn’t. Then I left the orphanage and all my focus was on surviving.” I tell them, my voice wistful.

  “Well, at least some things about your past are pleasant, Paige.” Cora says, “it doesn’t do to only focus on the ways your life has hurt you, trust me.”

  I nod at Cora, feeling that she’s speaking from experience. “So, how long have you been with the caravan then?” I ask, trying to move the subject away from depressing things.

  “About a cycle and a half?” Cora muses.

  “Yeah, remember we were about to flee Lankina—that town on the east coast—when we ran into Gregor, literally?” Sara adds, nudging Cora, who bursts out laughing.

  Once she regains her composure she continues, “what Sara is missing out on purpose is that she’s never dealt very well with being inside town and cities—being raised in the butt end of nowhere and all will do that to you—and she was the one running, when all we needed to do was leave like normal people.” She shoots a smirk at Sara.

  Sara scoffs and tries to remain unaffected, but she can’t hide the deep red blush that colours her cheeks. “Yeah well, I’ll take being raised in the middle of nowhere to having to cram myself into a big city any day.” She mutters.

  I can’t help but feel a smile on my face at their obvious friendship, even if it does feel a little bittersweet to me, the things I would’ve done for a friend like that.

  “Sorry,” Cora suddenly tells me, “I realise you don’t know us enough to understand some of our banter.” She laughs. “Basically I was raised in a city by very devout parents, who I am, err, no longer in contact with, shall we say?”

  “And I was raised in a tiny village in the woods, that has basically no contact with the wider world,” Sara adds, “I’m not even sure it’s on any maps I’ve seen, so the wider world probably isn’t aware it exists.”

  “Ah, that makes sense.” I say, a soft laugh escaping from me. “City girl and country bumpkin, or something like that?” I try to joke, hoping I don’t fuck it up.

  They both look at me shocked for a second, before bursting out into laughter. My smile grows at the sight before I join them and we’re all just sat there laughing. I’m surprised to find that it makes me feel good.

  “There we go!” Gregor shouts—and with a flourish—lights our campfire. From what the others have told me, he is always like this, loving the theatrics a moment can have. As Gregor comes over to sit with me and Cora, David gets out a pot and some other cooking equipment and gets to work cooking. Gregor sits down next to Cora and nudges her shoulder. “I heard you three having a good time earlier, eh?” he says, his blue eyes gleaming in the firelight.

  “Just getting to know each other, is all. Paige here is a right conversationalist once you get her started.” She says, what I’m coming to think of as her trademark grin, on her face.

  I feel like that’s an incredible over-exaggeration, but I don’t wanna contradict Cora.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Well, that’s good to hear, I’ll have to catch up to you two.” He says winking at me.

  “Sure.” I say. It’s definitely a weird feeling to have a bunch of people who want to get to know me for once. I’m just trying to think of something more to say when Sara rejoins us, sitting down next to me.

  “Hey, Gregor,” she says, “have a nice time riding up the front today?”

  “Oh it was just great, thanks Sara. Talking about logistics all day is my idea of a fine time.” He complains, grinning the whole time.

  We spend a good while just catching up with each other, and I get the feeling that it’s quite rare for them to spend the entire day apart like this. Then are talking is interrupted when David calls out that the food is ready.

  Cora jumps up and helps David spoon the stew he’s made into five different bowls, which are then handed out to everyone and Cora and David sit back down. I’m struck with a weird kind of surprise that I have a bowl. It’s not that I thought I would be left out, but my next meal has been an uncertain thing ever since I aged out of the orphanage and having it given to me so matter-of-factly throws me for a loop a little. Nevertheless I tuck in as everyone else does, as I do I let out a groan of pleasure at how good it tastes and how wonderful the feeling of warm food is. The others give me a brief look and I grin sheepishly at them, before going back to eating.

  Before long, we’ve all finished our meals, and Gregor stands and turns to face us all. “Right everyone. I wanted to just update you all on our plan from here on out.” He pauses and I see both Cora and Sara share a glance, before he continues. “Instead of just travelling to the Stygian border and into the borderlands, we will now be going to the capital city of Stygia, Noirithica.”

  To Stygia’s capital? I grimace a little, thinking back to the rumours I’ve heard about Stygia. I know that some of them are probably exaggerated, like that time I was stealing food from a vendor and he was talking to a customer about Stygians eating Libertarian travellers. But it’s not exactly a secret that they worship darkness or something like that.

  “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like too great an idea, boss.” Sara is saying.

  “Look,” he says, “I get it, there’s lots of rumours and speculation about Stygia and it’s people.” He sighs, taking a moment before continuing, “I’m not saying that Stygia is a place with no problems or that it’s not a dangerous place. It absolutely can be dangerous, especially to Bisolians. But most of the more out there stories and rumours are just that.”

  I feel less turmoil in me after this part of his explanation. If he’s been there before then it can’t be too bad right? Plus I’m not really Bisolian, never practiced any religion, really. Not that there are other religions in Libertaria. Sara looks less convinced though.

  “What about worshipping darkness though?” she asks, a twinge of fear to her voice.

  “It’s true, yes. Their religion states that there was a massive conflict and a collision of three celestial bodies destroyed most of their country, so they worship the absence of the light the celestial bodies provide. This mostly manifests nowadays as just hatred towards Bisolian Supremacy. They won’t push their religion on you if you don’t seek it out.” He tells us.

  Something about that seems odd to me. “Three celestial bodies you say, so what’s the third? I get that two of them are Solaris and Solanka, but I’ve never heard anything like that be mentioned with the moon? I’m pretty sure I remember a lesson about the moon not being anything special like that?” I ask, trying to figure out why the idea of three celestial bodies sits so wrong in my mind.

  “Actually, I can confirm that for you Paige,” Cora says, “my parents were about as devout as can be and there is some theological evidence in Bisolian Supremacy that speaks the moon just being made of Rock and it’s light a gift from Solaris and Solanka.”

  “Okay, okay, okay. Lets not get theological here please? I just mean that they have specific places for worship, so if you avoid them, their religion won’t affect you.” He stops, shaking his head a little. “Anyway, if you have some dramatic opposition to entering Stygia proper, we can drop you off somewhere and retrieve you when we return. But that’s all I wanted to say, so lets get some sleep, eh?”

  We all nod and murmur our agreement, and no one brings up anymore objections of travelling to Noirithica. It doesn’t take long for us to settle down in our sleeping bags around the fire — mine loaned from spare equipment in the caravan — and everyone quickly falls asleep, clearly experienced at sleeping outdoors. Soon enough I feel sleep coming to claim me too, and as I begin to drift off looking at the sky, I can’t help but think that the moon shining it’s blue light is almost pulsating. Before I can think much of it though, sleep finally does claim me.