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When she left, her silhouette slowly blending into the distant twilight, and as Tilina boarded back inside, the carriage embarking once more, Eshwlyn thought-or perhaps had hoped-that she had seen movement, a flash of magic, salvation... but when she looked again, Terra had disappeared.

Alone once more.

“What has the Magus told you?” Tilina asked, still a little disgruntled by the interruption.

“Nothing that I do not already know,” Eshwlyn responded, those trembling, pleading words still resounding in her head. “That the life of a Knight would truly suit me best.”

Throughout the various landscapes and vistas they’ve traversed, seeking passage through an assortment of dominions strewn across their journey, and finding temporary lodgings in the worn, thin sheets of dreary tavern rooms-every moment passing, every action made, even to the very water she drinks to quench her thirst, all done for a single purpose, all for this... to inch her closer to an unavoidable fate.

At one point, their long tiring journey had them voyaging across the seas in the care of some greatly reluctant Hermelians, crossing the boundless watery horizon that split the vast land of Frieden Rike in two.

.....

It would be a long expedition by ship, subjected to the whims of the ocean before there were to reach Astra, the capital nation of the humans, home to the Cathedral of the Seven Churches, the birthplace of many heroes of great legend, the foundation for the illustrious kingdom... and should the rumors and tales hold true... the very same grounds that brought upon the Great Cleansing from ages long gone.

Eshwlyn had only experienced the nation through the apt descriptions and illustrations in her studies. From what she had garnered, Astra mainly was a human domain with only a sparse populace of the other races scattered far and wide usually in the roles of traveling merchants, mercenaries, or performers, the rare talented few even acting as honorary scholars residing and researching within the kingdom’s academy.

And as for the livelihood of Elves, a brief, simple excerpt at the bottom of the page of one particular book mentioned that Astra boasted the largest number of Elf-Knights harboring within a single nation. A favorite keeping among the higher aristocrats, and a more favored guardian as opposed to regular hired guards.

In-between continuously mulling over gloomy notions, as the days turned to weeks, Eshwlyn found her thoughts and focus veering more and more towards her only sole traveling companion throughout.

Tilina was a rare, fleeting sight aboard the ship, preferring mostly to keep herself isolated within her chambers below deck. And when she does emerge, it was only to engage the captain in discussion. Eshwlyn had tried to overhear a particularly strained conversation once, but as the Hermelians could only be understood through the cryptic tongue of hymns and melodies, she quickly abandoned the prospect.

But it was the reclusive Knight herself that turned out to be the most elusive out of all, at least when in regard to the fate awaiting Eshwlyn somewhere beyond the infinite blue horizon... because who else would know more? Who else here had already undergone such a cruel fate and seen through it? And how? How exactly had she done it?

Being able to give the entirety of yourself voluntarily, so willingly, without hesitation, reluctance. To make an eternal vow of servitude to the humans, and wanting to, desiring to-when most Elves would rather choose death over bondage-how did she, and why did she choose differently?

Eshwlyn never found the perfect moment to ask... for Tilina did not make for a normal companion. Always finding reason to shut herself away, to maintain the lingering look of disapproval etched on her face, at times... it mostly felt as if she was purposefully avoiding her.

Yet why would that be?

Then during one restless night, with her thoughts once more unraveling into chaos, Eshwlyn clambered above deck hoping to find respite somewhere among the stars and the stagnant waves... and when that didn’t work... there was only one other option left that had still yet to fail her thus far.

Eshwlyn drew her sword from her sheath.

It was not practice, it was not a spar, she just wanted a distraction... and the air whipping, rippling, with her every nimble move, for some reason, was the only thing that helped. The faux-rush of battle. It was a feeling unlike any other.

Yet it was also all so strange, for a lifetime ago, she remembered despising the sight of a sword... and yet now, it was the very thing, the only thing... that would offer her any semblance of peace.

But considering it more, maybe it really wasn’t strange at all, maybe it was all really meant to be... maybe... maybe she really befitting the role of a Knight, after all.

“Sparring all on your lonesome again, are you? I had thought I taught you already not to do exactly that.”

Eshwlyn nearly fumbled a twirl, stopping in just the right time, the right direction, to find herself meeting with the slender outline of Tilina.

She stood there, round yellow eyes glimmering in the pale moonlight, her hair blowing in loose crimson locks together with the breeze. She wore only a gown, walking only barefoot, and yet the scabbards hanging across at her hips remained always at the ready.

“I could not sleep,” Eshwlyn began to explain.

“And you merely hope to tire yourself out doing this, I suppose,” The other Elf finished for her, drawing closer forward. “Truly it must be an extensive struggle, fighting the harsh air...”

“And what of you, then?” Eshwlyn nudged her head. “Why are you still awake?”

“Because I’ve never slept, and nor do I even intend to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I am awaiting Master’s next message,” Tilina answered, veering her gaze far over the edge of the ship, a canvas of stars and calm waves the only things meeting her back. “Whenever it may arrive, whatever may arrive, regardless, I will be there when it does.”

“What message?”

“I do not know, but in his last correspondence, he had assured me he will be in contact again. By letter carried by the wings of a Wol, or a message carried into my lips by a Speaker. There are many ways he could use to relay me his orders.”

Eshwlyn recalled the brief spat she had with the Hermelian captain. Perhaps that too was an attempt at heeding this message of hers.

“So you have not slept, you have not rested all this while... awaiting this message... because he ordered you to?”

“No,” Tilina said, glancing back at her. “Because I want to.”

“But why this message in particular?” She asked. “In the past, I do not recall you displaying such tenacity just to hear a few of his words.”

“And why would you?” Tilina said, an icy edge to her words. “You do not know, you do not feel.. the worries, the disquiet, the restless feeling of being separated from your Master’s side, for weeks, months... this feeling does not irk you... you do not know... not yet at least...”

Something inside her quaked, a sense of unease rousing... seeing the sincerity in the Knight’s stare, hearing it in her words... a terrifying devotion, that one day she too would share in... willingly... wantingly...

“I...I see, then let me leave you to your wants,” Eshwlyn sheathed her blade, already hurriedly shuffling past her. “Let me not distract you.”

“Wait,” Tilina suddenly said. “You just mentioned you couldn’t sleep, did you not?”

Eshwlyn had only barely reached the foot of the hatch that led below deck when quietly, faintly, she heard the distinct rustle of blades unsheathing.

“Allow me to help you with that.”