"Ngh…"
Groans filled the interior of the mudbarn as Priscilla woke up from the sunlight coming from the gaps and holes in the adobe wall. Her eyes took a while to adjust to the light coming from the outside and after blinking many times she was able to see the interior of the barn clearly.
With her eyes finally adjusted to the dim room—she forced herself to stand up. The hay crunched beneath her weight as she used her arm to propel herself up.
Upon looking around she noticed her jacket was covering her upper body. She glanced around but didn't hear a single noise inside, so she decided to speak up.
"Rionara?"
Silence. It was all too quiet.
She hurriedly grabbed her belt and secured the weapon to her waist before wearing the chainmail and covering it up with the jacket.
"Where did she go…?" She stepped over the small bump on the dirt floor that served as a makeshift doorway and entered the next room. All the while looking around. "Geralt? Are you there?"
She peeked in the other room but it was also empty.
'Did Rionara also leave with him…?'
Priscilla was still bothered by what happened last night and the mere act of recalling the encounter at the inn was enough to make her hands instinctively clench into tight fists. However, after a few seconds she let out a long and slow sigh.
"No… I shouldn't pick unnecessary fights here."
She grabbed on the frame of the wet twig door and opened it. It was the start of fall but outside already felt somewhat cold. She looked at her own hand and noticed dew sticking to her fingers.
'She must be freezing without decent clothes…'
Consequentially, her eyes instinctively traced towards the ground and that is where she noticed two distinct footprints in the wet dirt ground.
'One adult footprint and another much smaller one… I see, Rionara left with Geralt most likely.' She looked around but noticed there were different footprints all over the place. '...unless.'
After closing the door behind her, she wasted no time and started to walk at a fast pace towards the center street. Thankfully it wasn't particularly far, but it took her a few wrong turns in some alleyways before she made it to the central street.
That early in the morning only peddlers and workers were out around the otherwise busy street of Arivaul. Some carried their goods in large bags to set up shop on the sidewalk while others lugged pickaxes, shovels and other manner of tools for excavation as they headed to the dungeon.
Priscilla's eyes darted around the street as she picked up the pace towards the central square.
'Rionara… where are you…?'
Upon reaching the obelisk, the first place she went to look was at the blacksmith where Geralt would be. But strangely, nobody was out in front of the shop.
"Geralt!" She called out as she neared the store. "Are you there?!"
"Aye. Lower ya voice, me hearin' workin' just fine." A grumbling middle aged man came out of the backroom where the forge was located. "Watcha need from good ol' Geralt?"
"Where is Rionara?"
"Hah? The lil squirt is making herself pleasant near them bellows." He stepped to the side and pointed to the back of the store with his cross pein hammer. "Come, I'll show ya."
She stepped inside without wasting any time. The store itself was plain, something one would expect from a blacksmith such as Geralt. Swords, axes, polearms were all on display either tucked inside barrels or attached to the wall through a mounted support.
"I didn't know this shop was so big."
"Aye, last time ye just stood outside while I hammered ye plate." He stopped by a thick wooden door and flicked his head once. "Ere', I got sum errands with the guild. Keep an eye on the store for me, aye?"
He then wasted no time in going outside. Priscilla flinched at the absurd request as she tried to stop him.
"Hey! Do you seriously expect me to man your shop?!"
"Don't getcha knickers in a knot, I'll be back in a jiffy. Just think o' it as thanks fer looking out fer yer lil squirt."
"Get back here! Oi!"
Despite her protests, Geralt simply left the store and as the door closed with the ring of its doorbell. She knew the responsibility of keeping an eye on the goods fell straight on her laps. She sighed tiredly.
"Ha… why does this keep happening to me?"
She turned around and decided to at least check on Rionara. Upon opening the door she noticed the girl sitting on a wooden stool a few meters away from the heated forge while holding a piece of half eaten bread. She wore the same dirty rags as yesterday and her eyes seemed too focused on the red hot coals to notice Priscilla coming into the room.
"Rionara." The knight called out, but the girl's eyes were still fixed on the glowing coals. She even held the bread between her hands without even taking a bite. "Rionara?"
Only after touching her shoulder, she finally responded, though a bit delayed as if she was in a daze.
"Huh…?" She blinked a few times before turning to the knight. "Pris? What are you–"
She was met with a gentle headchop that stopped her mid-sentence.
"Always tell your guardian where to and with whom you are leaving." She lightly scolded her. "You left me worried."
"Ah… I'm sorry. Geralt just told me to come here since it was cold in the barn."
Priscilla nodded as she knelt beside the girl.
"Hm, I understand it. But are you feeling okay? You were staring at the forge for a while."
"I… don't know. I feel something… familiar, but even I'm not sure why…"
"Hmmm… is it bad or good?"
She shook her head before taking a bite from the hard bread.
"I don't know."
Priscilla chuckled while patting her lightly on the head.
"As long as it isn't something bad, I guess it's fine, right?"
"Mhm."
At that point the doorbell rang and Priscilla instinctively clicked her tongue.
"Tsk, just my luck." She turned around and walked to the left side of the room which would lead right behind the counter in the store. "I'll be right back."
"Okay."
Upon walking to the counter she was met with a towering man. His physique could rival even the most robust of knights in Arcadia's royal guard. His squared face, dark eyes and gray hair—tied back into a bun with a piece of sharp bone set off every alarm in Priscilla's mind.
'What the… this guy is almost like Sir Leonard…!'
His sheer presence was intimidating but she'd fought worse—far worse—in the capital. The man before her couldn't even compare one of her peers of the knights trio. She cleared her throat before speaking up.
"What can I help you with, sir?"
"Ah, sorry. I'm looking for a pair of handaxes. I broke mine on the way here." His hands drifted to each side of his hips which prompted Priscilla to fight the urge to draw her own weapon. He then produced two axes heads with part of the wooden handle blackened and splintered off—a sure sign of heavy use. "I, uh… I'd rather not fight with just my bare hands."
"O-oh, I see. Uh… let me see if I can find something for you." She quickly glanced around and noticed one of the racks behind her held a pair of handaxes. Though there was no price tag nor a way for her to tell how much it was, a certain feeling of panic started to surge from her gut. "These axes uh…"
Rionara tugged gently at the hem of her jacket. Which prompted Priscilla to glance briefly at the girl, who in turn, silently pointed to a small wooden plaque on the opposite side of where the racks were. A quiet sigh of relief came out of the knight's mouth as she went over to check the price.
"That pair will cost you fifty silver."
"Oh…? Thankfully I have just enough." His low deep voice made him seem even more happy. "Here."
He placed the small pouch of coins on the dusty wooden counter. After quickly counting the money, she handed over the two weapons and the man adjusted them on his belt before politely bowing and exiting the store.
The moment he stepped foot outside Priscilla let out a long exasperated sigh.
"Ah… that was stressful." She turned to Rionara and gave her a thumbs up. "Thank you for the help, Rio. I didn't know you knew how to read."
"I don't. I just saw the numbers."
"You… don't?"
"Nuh uh. I… never got the chance."
That made Priscilla feel a bit bitter inside.
"I see…" She then knelt down to face her at head height. "But don't worry, I didn't know how to read until I was fifteen."
"I'm… eighteen though…"
Those words hit Priscilla like a warhammer. She was stunned, her eyes blinked as if trying to make sure she didn't hear it wrong. Rionara seemed so soft, her frame so small—it didn't seem possible.
Eighteen.
Priscilla sat back against the dusty wooden wall and took a deep breath. This girl—no, this young woman—looked so small, so fragile. Not just in body, but in the way she spoke and carried herself. It was like time had stopped for her, somewhere in the middle of her suffering.
But, in an ironic twist it all made sense. The cruelty carved in her back and the seemingly boundless strength to keep moving forward despite those scars. The way she wouldn't even flinch at cold or hunger—weren't a child's burden, no… it was a veritable lifetime of suffering.
Priscilla wanted to say something—anything, but Rionara beat her to it.
"I… I know what you must be thinking… that I used you but…" Her voice cracked. "Miss Knight, Pris… you are… you are the only one who showed me this warmth…" Her small hands gripped the bread so tightly that each nail started to become white. "I'm… sorry…!"
"No… I never thought…" She just hugged her small frame and placed her small head softly against her own shoulder. "Not even for a second…"
She didn't let go, but neither Rionara pulled away. They remained like that quietly for the next few minutes. The only sound that filled the room was the silent crackles of the coals in the forge. Priscilla didn't know whether to keep calling her a 'kid' or to offer her the same respect she did to any other adult. But deep down she felt like 'respect' would feel too cold for someone who flinched at kindness.
'Protect those who cannot protect themselves…'
Those words echoed throughout Priscilla's mind as she held Rionara in her arms. It didn't feel glorious—it felt like a cold dagger sinking in her heart, asking, 'Where were you all this time?'.
How long must she have suffered to become like this? Who would draw blood from someone who knows nothing but pain? No amount of thinking would give her the answers she wanted, but it served to only fuel her determination further.
"Rio. I, too, have been hiding something from you." Priscilla pulled back and looked Rionara straight in her eyes. "I'm a royal knight in the service of the Queen."
"A royal knight…? Wait… are you… one of the Knights Trio?"
She nodded with a confident smile on her face.
"Dame Priscilla Avellion of Blade and Magic." She chuckled lightly. "A bit of a mouthful, isn't it?"
"No, not at all…" She cleaned her own tears with the edges of the rag she used as clothing. "If anything, it feels like I've met my guardian angel."
Those words made the knight's chest feel heavy.
"...Rionara." Priscilla spoke softly as she squeezed both her shoulders firmly. "I am on a mission for my Queen. I'm not sure how it'll turn out and there is no guarantee I'll be able to take care of you, so I must ask, what is it that you wish to do?"
At first she remained silent and her eyes traced down to the bread she held. The faint sounds of chatter and the crackling sound of the forge filled the otherwise quiet room.
But after some time passed, Rionara looked up once again in Priscilla's eyes and asked.
"Could I stay with you until you need to go?"
The knight's chest tightened as she nodded.
"Yes, I promise I'll do my utmost to keep you safe."