The next morning, Amythra was on her way. She had long since bid goodbye to Anna, Roose, and Boose. All conversation aside, she was only in the city on business. Amythra carried with her more than Anna Goldeyes ever saw in four months pay, and guarded it in her burlap sack while she boarded the ship back home. She looked on to another ship she recognized as a military vessel, wondering if Marvate was aboard, or if another ship was his calling.
Alone again in a small cabin below deck, she thought about it. She would be in the city more often and may even again run into the strange red guard inside. It was at once so very overwhelming, yet very small. And mad. Who ever heard of celebrating a candy smith's birthday? She thought of Anna and felt glad, lucky, really, that they met. A friendly face. That was what she had needed.
Unbeknown to her, her adventure was as much Roose and Boose's interference as much as the map was. All of it a mere side effect of a spell unconsciously cast in motion by two Ixxar to help support the war in the north. Such is the way of one's life, I suppose. Aren't we all cogs in one form or another? But Amythra didn't know or care.
She pulled out a stretch of papyrus from her sack and carefully rolled is open, weighing the corners with a lamp and some random debris from within her cabin. Finding a nice compressed chuck of charcoal, she began to write.
Dear Marvate,
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