Holding my arms out, Vayne helps me with equipping my new armor. It’s all fastened on over the mens peasant’s clothes that Vayne scavenged for me. The chest-straps pull the shirt more tightly against my chest making my breasts ache somewhat.

Thinking as he’s bucking things up, I wonder about why Jeraldyne’s father had armor that was clearly made for a woman’s body. The chest piece makes it obvious. It has cavities made to accommodate breasts. 

Ugh… my breasts! If I wasn’t wearing a man’s shirt, It’d be a fair fit for my body.

Touching the left breastplate, I frown at the armor. Too oddly convenient. Jeraldyne might be able to put my mind to rest… if she was still alive.

“Hmmm, something wrong?” Vayne asks around what he’s doing as he moves on to fastening a different piece.

I shake my head in negation. “No. It’s just I think it’s strange that this armor is shaped for a girl when this girl’s… grandfather was its previous owner. He was an adventurer of some kind. If this armor was his, I don’t think he could have worn it,” I say wryly.

Considering my observation, Vayne shrugs and replies, “Heh… I doubt that it was his. There is a chance that maybe it was once worn by him and was reworked for a girl’s body, but whose?”

“Good question. Maybe for Jeraldyne.”

“I can’t see that, given how portly the woman was, but I guess we were all little and in better shape, as young as you. Failin’ that, it might belong to someone else he was holding it for.” Vayne shrugs.

Chewing my lip, I nod and put it out of my thoughts as he fastens on the hip armoring. “Thanks for helping me put it all on. It's all just a jumble to me for now. I’d probably have put it all on backwards, but I think I could manage to put it all back on if I take it off.”

“We’ll have to see,” Vayne mutters. “Hmmm… You really shootin’ to be an adventurer? You got nothing else to live for with everyone gone. Is the plan to throw your life away in some faraway struggle?”

My lips twitch at his sardonic question. “I don’t want to throw my life away, not ever, and not this girl’s. I just want to get through whatever’s happening to me for now. Having armor and a weapon will make a difference.”

Vayne’s brows crinkle in consternation. “...Having a weapon and armor isn’t going to do jack shit for you, not unless you know how to properly use ‘em.” Turning his head, he spits and looks at me seriously. “If all you want is safety, all you need to do is find a peaceful community to settle in. Get a job, find yourself a husband or somethin’. Ain’t no one can get by without money. Workin’s an inevitability, one way or another..”

I nod. “Yeah, and no. I’m not interested in ‘settling’ anywhere unless I don’t have a choice. I’ll work my ass off, no matter what I have to do. If I can, I’d prefer to learn to use a sword, magick and all that. Right now I don’t have any particular skills except for giving myself to whatever I do, and I don’t want a ‘husband’,” I say with a laugh. 

What he’s saying makes sense, but there are things I won’t do. I’m not here in this dream or whatever to marry some guy and wait for oblivion. To a point, I’ll still have to play by this world’s rules while I’m here.

Vayne rubs his chin and says, “I don’t see it happenin’. But no matter what you end up doin’ determination’ll get you far enough if you aren’t stupid.”

I nod thoughtfully. Sage advice, but nothing I didn’t already know. 

I smile a bit, thinking about the voice that guided me to this world. “No matter what you think, I’m set. It’s like this world or dream or whatever… It's pushing me to become some kind of a hero. It’s provided me with armor, a sword… even though I got started by nearly getting killed by goblins… Hardly a warm welcome.” I frown and Vayne rolls his eyes. This world has provided me a horse, sword and armor in exchange…. Maybe that voice cares a bit about me. A horse, assuming I can find wherever it ran to.

“You have a bit too high of an opinion of yourself, don’t ya?” Vayne laughs contemptuously and looks down into my eyes with a frown. “What are you trying to imply, girl?”

My lips twist. Maybe I do think too much of myself, since I’m so weak and just arrived. Maybe I just expect to be able to get powerful just because that voice teased me about the possibility of being a hero. 

I give my reply after a moment’s consideration, “When I came here, a female voice spoke to me, calling me a hero… It almost laughed at me like you, she seemed like she was mocking me… and then I woke up as the prisoner of goblins, as you know.”

Vayne shakes his head and mutters under his breath and turns away. “You’re a dreamer, for sure, Hana, or whoever you are. Staring off into the horizon, daydreaming all day long is more like. Fantasizing about being more than you’ll ever amount to. Heh… I was the same as you, what feels like a long time ago.” His face softens very faintly as he looks over his shoulder at me.

A dreamer, hah. I laugh with him. “I am that. I am a dreamer. You know, ironically this girl used to stare off and dream of better things too like you say you did. As for me, I’m just in this tough spot all because I wished I could have any kind of a dream of my own. Maybe because I…” I sigh. Having managed to protect Kairi, my love, I’d never blame her if this dream never ends. “Dreams are entirely the root of everything I’m going through, really. There was always something out of sight that I wanted for myself.”

“...A bit much, did you?” Vayne asks laconically. “And now you’re standing here in what’s left of your village, eh?”

“...far too much.” I say with a sad, but annoyed expression. “After everything I’ve seen, all I want is to go back to where I came from, but if I have to become a hero to get back to her, I’ll do it.”

“......” There’s a heavy silence between us.

Finally he comments again, “...Heh. You act like you’re reluctant, no matter what. You want out of your situation more than being a ‘hero.’ And a voice, heh. Crazy men hear voices too.  I’ve heard ‘em before too, but never once did they call me anything I ain’t. You sure you didn’t always just dream of being a great hero, growin’ up?”

I shake my head negatively. “Never. I actually wanted to experience flying. Thanks to you, that dream came true.” I laugh. “It’d be fine to go off on some adventures, but when I wanted that, it was mostly while reading books. I’d put myself in a hero’s shoes and think about what I’d do in the place of this or that character, but… wishing to be a hero isn’t something a level-headed person like me wants to be.”

“Damn right.” Vayne says soberly. “Who wants to risk their fool neck for some moment of glory and the adoration of people taking you for granted? You might want to be a hero now, sayin’ you never wanted it for yourself, but if it’s not in your stars, you’re just a damned fool. But, it’s always the ones that don’t want it that end up shouldering the burden. It’s good to see that you have enough good sense to not long for it.” Clearing his throat, Vayne reaches into his pouch and pulls out a scrap of cloth to seriously offer it to me, unclenching his fingers from around it, just enough that it won’t blow away with the wind.

I stare at what he holds and my jaw drops at the sight. This is Jeraldyne’s favorite’s dress’ embroidery from its throat with a large rose, daisies and assorted leaves that look like they’re waving in the wind. And she wore it when she was killed. Her favorite because this was what she considered to be her best work. It elevated her simple dress to something more than a simple villager’s.

I remember it from one of my dreams and maybe Halima’s latent memories. But I’m sure it’s the very one that she was working on the very night that the baby Halima was brought to Jeraldyne’s home. She was putting the final touches on this very piece. For some reason at the sight of this scrap of cloth, a thing that shouldn’t mean anything to me, my eyes fill with tears and my heart hammers. My knuckles bang on my breastplate with a small clunking noise as I hold it to my chest.

“There wasn’t any time to find you a proper memento aside from this,” Vayne says with a flat expression. “Your mother’s dress was in shambles and all of it stained with blood and ichor, all except for this part. That thing’s body ripped it into pieces when she changed. It’s a marvel that this escaped harm, her dress having been destroyed, being the strongest part. Seeing that you don’t have much else, I hope this will help you remember her.”

With overflowing eyes, I nod, giving my thanks, “I think this girl would thank you for doing this if she could. She’d want something of her mother’s.” Rubbing tears from my eyes, I take the scrap of embroidery from Vayne’s outstretched and gauntleted hand. “And, I think that if she ever wakes up from her long dream, she’ll be happy to find that I’ve incorporated this into some better clothes I’ll get for her that, something that I’ll someday earn myself.”

Vayne nodded skeptically with thin, compressed lips. He still thinks I’m crazy and in denial. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to distance myself from all the trauma.

“So, I thank you deeply on her behalf.” I bow in a correct and respectful manner, prostrating myself before Vayne Windblade.

Vayne blinks and sighs, practically facepalming at my reaction. He looks away and says, “Look, it’s no big deal, girl. Let’s get on with things. About time we found my horse. You can ride it when we get him. Looks like you could use a mite of respite.”

Straightening my waist, I smile, saying, “Actually… There's another horse around here. I met it a bit back and it seems to like me.”

“There’s another horse wandering around here?” Vaye asks with a raised eyebrow. “Hm. To be sure, did it have a standard-issue leather saddle and reins on its muzzle?”

“It had nothing on it. I’m pretty sure it’s not your horse,” I insist. I wasn’t able to compare the two horse’s coats since when I met my horse, given that the sun had long since gone down. But telling Vayne what color his horse is would just shoot me in the foot like blurting his name.

“No tack on it at all?” He rubs at his chin, thoughtful. “Maybe a farmer’s horse what got abandoned, after all’s happened here, that’s not too surprisin’. Tracking yours down sounds like a mite of a better plan than my idea. I didn’t relish the thought of doubling or walking alongside the distance we’ve to go. This way, we’ll make a damn sight better time, maybe over a day and a night with the use of occasional refresh spells.”

 “So, let’s get to trackin’ ‘em both down.”

Pacing over to the fruit tree in Halima’s home’s yard, I start harvesting more of these delicious fruits. 

Seeing what I’m doing, Vayne laughs aloud and comments, “Looks like you’ll have your hands full of these driatines without a bag to hold em’.” That name rings a bell in my mind, but for some reason I can’t recall where. Vayne reaches into one of his pouches and removes a net-like thing that’s all wadded up. 

“Heh, when I take a head, I usually use one o’ these to hold it. Blood drains out nicely out from between the twine fabric.” I feel queasy thinking about a dead human’s head having been in this bag that he’s handing me. His comment brings back memories of Gardenia’s head with blood dripping down from the stump of what was left of her neck attached to it. My face goes white and then green.

Vayne shakes the bag out with a quick movement and stuffs a gauntleted hand in to open it up. Seeing my expression, he barks a laugh. “I can see how the idea of putting your food supply in it ain’t too appetizing. Don’t worry. I boil these after use. It’d make a horrible clinging stench about me if I wasn’t tidy. Might attract the interest of monsters and such aside.” 

The bag has a cinching top with waxed strings. He holds the bag open while I pile in all the fruit I can conveniently reach, even ones I have to stand on my tippy toes to gather. When I run out of all the ones I can reach, Vayne wordlessly hands the bag to me and reaches for the remainder of them in higher branches.

“Ya got some good sense for a pilgrim girl.” He barks a laugh, dropping them into the bag quickly, one by one. 

“One lesson every adventurer learns is that you don’t turn down free supplies whenever available,” Vayne says once he’s plucked off the final fruit on the tree. Instead of depositing the last of them, he takes a big bite out of that one and walks away while I pull the strings on the bag and tie it off to a strap on my right hip in front of the armor there. 

He walks over to where my sword was stuck in the ground and pulls it free, handing it back to me. Carefully loop this through the straps on your other hip and make sure you don’t nick yourself. ‘Course this sword’s in such bad condition right now, I’d be surprised if you managed to get yourself hurt.” 

I nod, doing as he says without immediate comment. 

“And make sure you don’t cut any of those straps when you pull it out.” Vayne’s lips twist. “If you do that without thinkin’, you’ll have to replace them in some community, and you can bet that’ll take money you don’t have right now.”

“I’ll take care to think about it when I pull it out.” I say, thinking. Although, I don’t expect to need to use my sword, considering how good at it Vayne is. At least not yet.

Vayne examines the ground and gestures for me to follow. I jog after, although the weight of the armor and the clinking in my ears are jarring and off-putting. I do my best to keep up, somewhat recovered from eating more, but my eyes still start burning and I get winded sooner than when I was running in the nude. Vayne’s cloak waves behind him in the air as we pass through the leavings of Pinesdale and outside its boundaries. 

The man bends down now and again to follow my horse’s hoof prints. Since the sign is clear enough, we don’t pause for hardly anything. In a short time, we find ourselves at the nearby riverbank. I break out from the brush behind Vayne and grin at seeing my horse here. It looks up from its drinking, startled and whickers, looking like it might bolt this time. Taking in her features for the first time, I notice her white and gray, spackled coat. She has no socks on her fetlocks like Vayne’s and the mane around her face is shaggy and fuzzy. 

Vayne stops abruptly, holding his hands up. “Be easy,” Vayne says in a calm tone. The horse backs off and licks its lips nervously.

“It’s spooked,” Vayne mutters at me. “Just give it some time to let it adjust.” He settles down onto his heels right there in front of me and remains still.

Not a bad plan, but… I smile broadly, getting a bright idea, knowing my horse. 

Reaching down to the bag of fruit, I open the top and pull free a fruit and carefully, I slowly walk forward, holding out the fruit. “Hey, horsie. Come to me.” I offer the fruit, letting my other hand join my other to cup it in both hands and wait at the halfway point for it.

“Ya fool… impatient…” Vayne groans quietly.

The horse snorts and sniffs at the air and gives a little whinny of recognition and charges me as before, nearly bowling me over with its exuberance and bulk. It’s like a dog! I laugh aloud as it nuzzles at me and its slobbery mouth nibbles at my wrist until it reaches the fruit and chomps. I giggle and wait for it to finish feeding and stroke its neck softly.

“Hmmm.” Vayne grumbles, standing. I look over my shoulder at him while stroking the horse’s muzzle. “You’re not bad with them. Probably a mite better than me, not that I like horses all that much. Since you’ve got things settled here, I’ll find mine and track you down again. Be careful.” He walks off while I’m gazing at my new horse with a warm smile.

“Hey… I wonder if you have a name?” I ask the horse, patting and giving it a bit of a scratching on its neck and up to its ear. It sniffs at the bag at my side. I roll my eyes and work another fruit free to again feed the greedy horse. “What should I call you?” It munches the second fruit somewhat slower, looking grateful, its liquid eyes looking directly in my eyes.

I think about naming it after Halima’s mother-figure, but Jeraldyne doesn’t seem that good of a name for a horse to me, so I regretfully reject it. Thinking about something else related to her using the little I can scrape together in my head, I think about Jeraldyne’s embroidery that she made for her daughter. It had daisies and vines on it in a lovely mural. 

She said that it was an homage for some goddess called Alvera. If that’s the name of a goddess, that’s not a suitable name for a horse either, right?

Rubbing my chin furiously, I spread my lips, realizing the obvious, “Daisy! That’s your name!”

 I rub the horse’s neck and lean against its neck. “Um… if you’re a guy, I can give you a more macho name later if that bothers you. Maybe Vayne can tell me what your sex is, but then maybe it would be obvious if I just looked.” I laugh softly and horse nickers in response, its tail thrashing as it stamps. “I don’t have a saddle for you to wear yet or anything, but I think we have an understanding, so I’ll be fine.” I grin, looking at it, saying, “Sit for me so I can get up on you.”

Daisy shakes its head and neighs. My lips twitch. Or was that time just a fluke? I walk along its side and put my leg up to climb onto the horse’s back and it looks at me with a snort.

I wait for it to sit and let me board. I hold my leg up as long as I can before finally bringing it down with an annoyed expression. I guess it was a bit too convenient to think this horse actually understands me. My nose wrinkles and I get a handful of its mane and gently pull it along after me. Docilly, it follows my guidance without resistance. I lead it in the direction of where Vayne went, along the riverbank. I feel lost after only a short time, not sure if he backtracked or moved away in any other direction. 

With a sigh, I come to a stop, deciding that it might be good to make some kind of a camp here, but a fire would still draw the attention of other goblins or monsters and making a campfire is pretty much beyond my capabilities. I don’t have anything to sleep on aside from grass, but that doesn't sound too bad right now, so making camp means sitting down in the grass. The horse snorts and starts browsing at the grass around me. My life here is about to get more interesting, I hope… in a good way. I didn’t want to tempt fate to make my life far worse, so I added that last part.

Laying my head back in the grass, I stare at the sky that’s since cleared up to show me some unfamiliar-looking star constellations and admire the far larger moon than I’m used to seeing. Since I hardly saw anything of it so far, it hadn’t dawned on me. It looms over me at around double the size of Earth’s. I know that the moon grows larger or smaller as it orbits, but never has it gotten this big in my lifetime, though it looks similar in that it’s the same white or yellow color and is round. The face I’m used to seeing on the moon is entirely absent. 

The scars and other marks on it make an entirely different design. Thinking about it, I decide that it more resembles a set of wings as lunar seas are flanked by etching canyons, making them faintly resemble pinions. It’s not a regular design or anything, not man-made as far as I can tell, since the left wing is larger than the right but I nod sleepilly and wonder at what the locals call their moon as the horse settles down at my side, softly whinnying.