- written by Valucia Sabet and Raytheon

The month in Spring called March by the majority of locals, denizens, and strangers alike in the lands of RhyDin was one that Valucia both dreaded and welcomed. She had not travelled in some time and felt the rush of exhilaration about it with each task she set about to do to prepare for it. Supplies had begun coming into the nearby livery. Item by item, a wagon that stood under the stableman?s care and liveryman?s watchful eye was being filled. They were not taking a wagon, but these things would be on their horses and a pack horse when the time came. For now, the wagon that was gathering dust served as a shelf for these things.

She had indulged in a long hot bath the night before, knowing that her next one might not come for some time. And dresses that the seamstress had cut the skirts on to split them for the purpose for suitable riding were laid out and inspected. Other clothes along with her boots and travelling cloak were gone over as well before the leather bags were filled and the ties and toggled were fasten into place.

There had been no long meeting with her Warder, Raytheon, the night before. There was no need for it. They both knew the rise the next morning would be early and where they were going once that journey was started.

By morning, Valucia woke at sometime after the cook had, for she could smell the bread in the oven and the hints in that scent that told her that those loaves were almost done. She drew on a one of the new dresses: dark green and solid of pattern from her shoulders to the ground. The neck of it was not high, but neither was it too low; affording for comfort in hotter climates. Her hair was rarely ever worn out of some fashion, but she did not wear it in a tight, neat and twisted bun as she usually did either. Instead, an up-do that left her neck back was created from a two long-braids that she pinned into place. After checking it in the mirror, she moved through her rooms to see if all was packed for the journey.

The leather saddle bags were then lifted, along with her bed roll, and rolled up travelling cloak that would keep as much sun as rain from her when the weather might turn. Somewhere among the things she packed was her shawl and the Great Serpent Ring ? as it would prove dangerous to wear it in some areas they were going.Another careful pass over the rooms, she finally stepped out into the hall.

A key was turned in the lock before she wove the necessary touch of magic over the door itself. Then stepped down the hall a couple of paces or more to do the same with that. She would not have anyone coming into the room while she was gone, be them a housekeeping maid or a thief.

From there, she left the inn and took to the street along the edge of it long enough to reach the livery. The soft, metallic sounds of her chatelaine at her side was a slight rhythm to it but she was otherwise quiet. She was to meet Raytheon there and headed in through its wide-open doors to see if he had arrived.

As they pulled into another dusty village, virtually identical to the previous ones in all but name, Raytheon quickly set about with a number of tasks: acquiring two rooms in the only inn (which had certainly seen better days), bringing Valucia's luggage up to her room, and checking out the inn for potential safety risks and evacuation routes. The routine was already ingrained in him, but he performed each step carefully and diligently, heedful of Valucia's comfort and security.

As they sat down to dinner in the crowded common area, Raytheon frowned as he spied someone in the crowd. The object of his concern was a middle-aged man, of average height and slightly overweight, with nothing to distinguish him at all other than a pencil-thin mustache that drooped over his upper lip. The stranger appeared to be engaged in conversation with one of the locals, but every now and then he would glance over at their table.

"I've seen that same man three nights in a row," Raytheon said softly, picking at his food. "I didn't say anything yesterday because I thought that perhaps it was just a coincidence. But three times..." Raytheon shook his head, peering up at Valucia. "Any idea who he is?"

Raytheon had been reluctant to share his dreams at first. They seemed haphazard and hazy, more like brief glimpses of events than any clear picture. The first time that one of his dreams had "told" him something, he cast it aside as a case of deja vu. But then the same thing happened to him a few days later. Often his dreams and actual events were only distantly related and he had struggled to make use of his newfound "gift". Finally, he'd confided in Valucia, fearing that she might consider him crazy or call him a liar. She did neither; instead, she listened intently and asked him to describe his dreams as fully as he could. Not surprisingly, she was far better at interpreting them than he had been.

Unfortunately, his dreams could not help him this time. Raytheon cast another glance in the stranger's direction, but the man had disappeared into the shadows of the night, a single cigarette butt in a glass ashtray the only indication that he'd been there.

"I think we should retire to our rooms, Valucia," he said quietly. "And I would feel better if we left at first light."