The beginning of their journey had consisted, mainly, of the trio making their way through the forest without much conversation. Henrietta led them, which concerned both Yorick and Sir Van Amstel, who trailed a bit behind her. Quite tense at the arrangement, and having grown impatient, the boy attempted to make conversation.
"Would… would you really have killed me? For them?"
The squire nodded towards the ground as he finished the question. That was all his mentor had any loyalty to, it seemed. Galaes' eyes peered into the boy without the turning of his head. Maybe that wasn't the best way to start the conversation, Yorick admitted to himself. The man's attention returned to the path ahead before he replied, "No. My loyalty does not lie with the wishes of gods. Causing death would not be in alignment with my way of life."
"Then why would yo-"
"My aim was not to kill you. It was only to see what I might inspire."
"What you might inspire?"
The man nodded. "It was a test."
"You are quite a fearsome opponent. You inspired much terror."
At that, the man's expression seemed to fall, and the party's movement ceased. Quickly, Henrietta was by his side, and, after a small pat of the knight's shoulder, she joined an arm with Yorick. "Come," she said, beginning to drag him along, "I am to answer the questions you have, not him."
The boy's thoughts were dismissed by the eager look the priestess displayed. He attempted to recollect all that had come to him the night before, but with the sun beating down, and a lingering feeling of unrest boiling underneath the skin that made contact with the woman's, he could only think of one: "What are you?"
"What am I? Surely you mean who-"
"No. Sir Van Amstel told me who you are. A name is enough to answer that… for now, at least. But I do not know why you are so willing to be here, nor how you are to help me become such a great figure."
The smile she gave bared teeth. She spoke through them to answer, "I am simply a guide, young one. Your guide."
"Simply a guide? With death sprouting from your fingertips like a climber in the Rumperes?"
Any trace of the gentle expression Henrietta donned was gone completely, her lips pressed tightly together as she turned to face the boy, their arms falling from each other. Grabbing him by ear, she pulled him down, and, in quite a hushed tone, finished their conversation with, "I have no intention of splaying my ribcage for a child who lacks an area of play. You will better understand the role I am to take after your enrollment in Domitio's Academy."
Releasing her grip, the priestess folded her hands over themselves. There are sins within that robe, Yorick thought. But I guess everyone has to hide their past somewhere. He watched as she continued to walk ahead, then followed her lead. A bit of distance kept between himself and both his companions let him choose to focus on his thoughts for a stretch. He felt it impossible to grasp at them as they raced within.
"She said Domitio's, didn't she?"
Yorick's chin flicked up, his own eyes staring back at him. The voice had come from this doppelganger, the creature of shadow plaguing him. She did, he replied, though only in thought. He had learned from a young age there was no need to speak to be understood, and that only led to trouble.
"Isn't that the old abandoned military school out West?"
Yes.
"You know what they say about troubling dead soldiers, don't you?"
Do you really believe those old hags' tales?
"No, but you do."
The doppelganger chuckled, flashing Yorick a small smile. "Come on, buck up! The gods have given you what you've so desperately wished for. Aren't you the least bit happy?"
Perhaps he had asked for something, anything, to be given to him, but was this what he had in mind when he sent that prayer? He glanced behind, towards Sir Van Amstel, then returned his gaze forward, his attention drawn to Henrietta. His shadow twin moved behind him, placing both hands on Yorick's shoulders and lightly pushing him along.
"She has answers. You need to think of questions, or you will not make it."
But I… I can't, I just can't.
"You cannot afford to be weak now. It will get us killed before your Arrival."
How do I know what is good to ask?
"You do not, and so you must ask everything."
Yorick stumbled forward from a stronger push, but when he turned back to face his shadow, there was nothing but his mentor and the inescapable forest surrounding their path.
"Is there something you require, child?"
"N… Yes, there is."
"And what would that be?"
Forcing himself to walk beside her, he took a moment before starting what he hoped would be a lengthy inquisition.
"I was… out of line before. I apologize."
She nodded, pressing her folded arms closer to herself as she acknowledged him. Her body relaxed after a minute, untangling itself, and as she flicked her sleeves back to show the colours of her fingers, she stated, quite clearly, "There will come a time when the sun rises much too early for my liking, and the moon sets before I have conquered the hill. I will be taken, then, to The Oleg, and my people will finish their journey to peace because of my sacrifice."
There was a moment of silence, followed by her explanation. "It is a line from Domitio's last journal entry. He was a venerated general, and this country would not have prevailed without him. But even someone as powerful as him had, in the end, a path to follow.
"You see, Yorick, it does not matter where we come from. Whether we are peasants or nobles, jesters or haberdashers, there is something for us. Something more aligned with our beings than we know. But they do," she raised both hands to the sky, her extremities extended as if she was going to grab one of the branches high above her, "They know of the paths that satisfy our souls, and they deliver accordingly."
Her hands fell then, and she turned her head to the boy as she continued on, "Even so, you must be careful in your footing. The path laid for you is not so firm. There will be many an opportunity for you to become putrem."
"Putrem?"
"Yes. That is what we call those who have corrupted themselves and their path."