A Forest On Fire

Abandoned In Spite

"Such a waste," Lydia scornfully remarked, tearing up the train tickets that she had been ordered to buy and haphazardly throwing them on the floor of the carriage. Abraham Volleh anxiously scooped up the shreds; his hands were visibly shaking, but his nervousness was justified. They were travelling to Chalin, and the relationship between Chalin and Rousette was precarious, to say the least. No doubt the people in his hometown would dub him a traitor, as he is Chalinian and became a Rousettean citizen shortly before the war between the two countries. 

When they had previously arrived at the clinic shared both by Oliver and Victor Woodry, neither of them was to be found. However, a lady passing by with her three young children stopped to tell them that the doctor, Oliver Woodry, had travelled to crime-ridden Chalin in search of a medicine he had run out of. This woman was a patient of his, and he had informed her of his trip when giving an excuse for why he had cancelled her appointment. She hurriedly gave them her name, Nora, and scurried off with her children.

Elliot's gloved hands laid limply in her lap, and she sat there, staring at them, thinking- not of Victor, but of her sister. The sound of Abraham lecturing Lydia on cleanliness was nothing in her ears compared to the bustle happening outside the carriage. Groups of people- a few women per, mostly- spoke loudly to each other, salespeople shouted their offerings, the hoofbeats of horses alike the ones they were using now, and the occasional hack of a butcher's knife on concrete slabs echoed throughout the large marketplace. These sounds were the only thing needed to identify that they had reached Bopaume, where one of the few allowed passages at the border of the two countries remained open.

They had no properly signed paper to allow them into them into the country, which would have otherwise been signed by the duke- or his soon-to-be-crowned elder brother, in this case-, but none of them could get a chance to speak with the man. There is quite a number of responsibilities for a duke, after all, especially in times like these. As such, Elliot, the governor, and Abraham, a noble, would have to rely on their statuses within their province to get through.

As if on cue to Elliot's worrying thoughts, their carriage came to a sudden halt, and everything, for a moment, was silent. Then came a woman's ringing shout, "Runett!" A few more seconds of silence passed quickly before she knocked on their door. Lydia reached over and opened it, smiling with forced politeness. The officer spoke again, "Ellas as vure botaf ure robequi?"

Lydia took a glance at Elliot and whispered, "It's all yours, liere."

"A-Allow me, governor," Abraham offered, rubbing his hands together anxiously. He turned to the impatient officer. "Oir cebon shetipri er. Fichtel shetipri."

"Jou uise douvech," Elliot added, just for good measure.

The lady gave the governor a suspicious glare, but, now knowing she was her superior, gave in with the mutter, "Vou kou robe."

The carriage door was slammed shut, and the rusty creak of metal and crunch of snow played out with a familiar tune as the gate was opened. Lydia laid back upon the cushions of the seat, smirking smugly to herself. "Douvech," she repeated tastefully. "Perhaps I should start calling you that, governor."

"I'd certainly prefer that over liere. If you must "call" me something, call me that instead."

"Girls, please be on the lookout," Abraham warily reminded them as he shifted to the side, peeking out the window. "And I don't particularly mean just for finding the Woodrys. Chalin is a dangerous place, as I'm sure you're already aware." Mr Volleh looked at Elliot specifically and gave a subtle nod as he said this, "Please, be careful."