《Madi》 Prologue He was happy. Mr. A had spent so much time being miserable that the sensation burned without heat, the proverbial animal sitting at the bottom of a boiling pot. By the time he discovered the change in temperature, he had already been cooked into a well-adjusted individual, and cooked things can never become raw again. There was nothing unique about living the life of a malcontent. His peers ran around with the same vain desire to make horrid statements, throwing themselves toward destruction to prove something people could never understand. That would be an exaggeration for Mr. A, he never resorted to anything quite so dramatic and the mere thought was repulsive to him. There had been something once in a fever dream. He could not remember it now, and it made no difference when the world stopped conspiring against him. He came to realize how things did not happen for the worse. And without complaint, Mr. A returned from work and settled down into his evening routine, a light dinner followed by short hours staring at a colorful screen. He tolerated his job and liked his coworkers, to the point where the next day was not dreaded but anticipated. The larger issues of debt, marriage, and mortgage were concepts tied to a better career in the future. For now he was happy with the security and comfort today offered, able to rest his head and doze off. He started to dream. A young girl brandished a paper shiv in her left hand and folded it over once more while she spoke. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going to stab you. You¡¯re not like the other boys, you¡¯re nice.¡± His second grade mind did not comprehend the situation. And even now he lacked the context to make sense of it. The memory must have had a profound impact on him if he remembered it, or more likely, made no difference whatsoever, just the last dream in the sequence before waking up in the middle of the night. Mr. A was paralyzed to the bed. A malevolent demon sat atop his chest making it difficult to breathe while his heart beat above a hundred times a minute. His eyes rolled wildly beneath his eyelids as he struggled to raise a single finger despite willing every available unit of energy to the task. Scattered voices rang in his head, discordant whispers and shouts accompanied by imagined bursts of color, spinning around in a fit of vertigo. All caused by a familiar friend, his old demon. Mr. A came out of his body to see the lonely figure, a misunderstood creature cursed with an outlandish wish and no means to see it realized. He empathized with this dream and sent it off to look for what he had forgotten, returning function to his body and bringing him back to sleep. Tomorrow would be another busy day and he needed the rest. This is not a story about Mr. A after all. ¡ª- The first thing it realized was that he was naked, sitting under a shaded grove with his head laid against the smooth bark of a white birch¡¯s trunk and his lower back rested on the knot of an exposed root. Discomfort led both hands to push down on the ground, pulling his shoulders forward as he lifted himself a few inches away to settle down on a patch of grass. The sudden shift threw him off balance, misjudging both distance and the weight of his body. He looked down in a drowsy nod of the head. Instead of an unimpressive physique nurtured by more than two decades of sedentary living, a marble statue turned flesh expanded and contracted with his breath. Aside from the finely tuned muscles and sleek form, he noticed two protrusions on the chest that were distinctly feminine.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. An old subconscious reaction came first, not fear nor shame but the simple erotic lust of a voyeur, hungry to discover the dimensions of an alien body. His hands ran down the grooves of her skin drawn by the desire to touch the shape of his obsession, and the warm touch of fingertips lifted her closed-eye face toward the branches, alone in the world of a hopeless narcissist. Only to be broken by a second primal instinct, concern for safety, by which any metric placed a person, naked and alone in the wild, near the bottom. He sequestered larger questions away and the thought of survival brought a limp body to a standing position whereby the full scope of her body mapped itself in his mind. This person was strong. It was an acknowledgement backed by implicit assurance, beyond any feeling of invincibility youthful ignorance could deliver. Confidence in this form changed his posture. From this small outcropping of birch trees, he examined the landscape in detail. The round cap of a green hill rose above the skyward reach of a small forest covering no more than a few acres of land, on which either side opened to wide plains stretched over a large territory. His own small hill carried a gentle slope down to the forest and was occupied by little shrubs tapering off at ankle height, interspersed by wild flowers and the tiny hats of light brown mushrooms. Without abstract references to time, the light tan seeds and dried stems of the long grasses marked the summer season along with strong sunlight and warm air, cause for any movement at all to trickle with sweat. A small plume of smoke rose from the periphery and sparked movement in her legs, taking off from the summit in a hurry. Both feet tapped the sand strewn dirt in the flickered steps of a prey animal, each step carrying a deft sense for avoiding uneven footing. Waves of underbrush and the decayed claws of dead branches faded around him in a stunning show of dexterity, not dissimilar to travel through a tunnel where a single path presented itself. He leapt over the last bush and onto the open fields of the amber plains, brazen and bare for all to see. On the hill he could not see the small stream cut across the ground flowing into the dell. It came from across the opposite side and gained strength connecting to the many streams that fed in further along, forming a slow-moving river. He descended down the banks of the river and proceeded to feed his curiosity by looking down at the face he now possessed. He looked and fell in love. She held the most perfect face in the world. A universal symbol of beauty by which everyone else must be measured and without doubt fall short. Unable to resist his own charm, he became Narcissus once more and longed for her. Vanity kept him around the water¡¯s edge and he made furtive glances at his own visage, unaccustomed to the face reflected back. His interest did not wear off like it were some novelty but his attention drifted to more pressing issues when he realized the face would not disappear. Sight of the rising smoke came from the right turn of the river¡¯s intersection. He kept low to the ground and approached his would-be saviors with caution. A gathering of seven women crouched on their knees in the midst of washing their laundry appeared at the river¡¯s edge. They were dressed in dowdy dated attire browned by kicked up dirt and blackened by soot, old world clothes whose homemade quality was apparent in the mixed fabric and colors. There was a raucous discussion carried along while they flung bedsheets over their shoulder after dousing them in the cold clear water. From his hiding spot, he listened in to their conversation hoping to guess where in the world they were and somehow recognized the words despite having no prior experience with the language. Uninterested in village subjects, he assumed women would be more charitable than men and approached them with an unguarded demeanor. They dropped their linens in the water after seeing the naked intruder. He spoke first and heard her voice for the first time, clear and sweet sounding to the ear. ¡°Can I borrow something to wear?¡± An older woman answered her, the matriarch of the group. ¡°Markova, we do not possess any fine fabrics worthy of adorning you.¡± She spoke in such an earnest tone it could not be interpreted as sarcasm. The other women averted their eyes from her body and hid behind their head scarves. ¡°Anything will do.¡± The older woman walked back to her basket and removed her finest garment, a cardinal red dress for a young woman, and presented it across her arms to keep the sleeves from drooping down the sides. He took the dress and tunneled through the bottom until her head popped above the collar. They all waited for her to finish dressing before turning their heads to face the stranger once more. ¡°May we ask permission to call you by your name?¡± The older woman asked. He thought a name at random. ¡°My name is Artemis. Thank you for the help.¡± Chapter 1-1 The women collected their belongings and placed them in large woven baskets carried on their head or strapped to their backs, freeing their hands to bid their guest forward as they climbed out of the river bank. They stood on a simple dirt road defined by the lack of vegetation, a winding path that disappeared with the river behind the foliage at the bend. Once through the thicket, the sight of the mountains revealed themselves unobstructed. The small village nestled in the hillside was nothing more than a decoration in the vast chain of mountains spread across her view. She assumed the plains carried on with the river but it now became clear she had wandered to the entrance of a valley. The village houses sat on small plots of land carved out from the rolling hills, at peace with solitary monoliths dislocated from the summit. They approached the first of such dwellings, a manmade cave tucked into the hump of the hill and capped by a large wooden shed. The front of the house served as part of the foundation, composed of uneven layers of river rock stacked to the ceiling except for the door and wooden shutters built facing the sun. A stout old woman bearing a square jaw waved to the women from the window. When they came close enough for her to read their anxious expressions, she grew pale with apprehension and rushed out to meet them. The women were unsure of how to explain the situation and so Pamilla, the one who had gifted Artemis the red dress, stood apart from the crowd and pointed to the person in question. The old woman¡¯s eyes drifted over and upon seeing Artemis, she let out a sudden shout and raised her hands in the air. ¡°If you are going to invite a Markova to my home, you should tell me first!¡± Danica said. Danica stormed past the locals and came close to crashing into Artemis headfirst. She clasped the young woman¡¯s hands together with the forcefulness of a concerned grandmother and invited her inside for a cup of tea, forgetting the others in her company as she dragged Artemis along by the sleeve. Danica used modest, depreciative language to describe her home but the room was spacious and possessed a kind of rustic charm. All the basic functions of village life were fulfilled by the presence of worn old cots, two wooden cupboards, a wood-fired stove, and a wide circular table arranged near the door for her many guests. The dirt walls were sealed in by an off-white material that resembled stucco and a flight of stairs ran along the right wall to the upper story, underneath which was a space to stock cluttered sundries. Everyone found their usual seat around the knee-high table and settled in while Danica shoved a few sticks of wood in the furnace. The white smoke wafted through an overhead vent and out the other side of the hill, and when the fire grew large enough, she placed a large copper kettle on the exposed flame and joined in the conversation. ¡°Welcome to my home Markova, my name is Danica Babic. My family has lived in this village for ten generations, except for my son who has gone off to live in Istora. If you need anything at all, do ask me for help.¡± She said. ¡°I am lost Miss Babic, I don¡¯t even know where I am.¡± Artemis confessed. Pamilla stopped an ongoing conversation with another woman to answer her. ¡°Artemis Markova, the name of our village is Novska. We are at the mouth of the valley three days south of Restreika Province. No one could blame you for not knowing where you are when we are so far from the village center.¡± ¡°I must have come from a great distance because these names are unfamiliar to me.¡± Artemis said. A middle-aged woman with a gaunt face and heavy eyebrows interjected. She had remained quiet during the whole affair. ¡°Markova, you speak Krovatskan without an accent so I cannot imagine that you¡¯ve come from too far away.¡± Artemis was dumbfounded by this revelation. She did not intend to speak anything other than English but found herself communicating with them in Krovatskan. The situation was not unlike a bilingual individual switching languages in the middle of a conversation with someone who spoke both, an unconscious decision made by the desire to get the point across. Artemis was saved from explaining this inconsistency when the kettle started to shake and bubble underneath its heavy lid. Each of the women rose from their seats and helped themselves to the white cups sitting on the shelves, leaving Artemis to think over her story. Pamilla brought a second ivory cup and put it in front of Artemis while Danica made sure to serve her first. The tea was brewed from a dried bark sunk at the bottom of the pot and removed after straining the liquid through a mesh ring in the spout. It smelled strongly of the earth and looked a deep mahogany red in the light. Artemis hesitated before she took a sip and found the drink to be less bitter than she expected though far from pleasant, closer to medicine than beverage. When Artemis drew the cup away from her lips, the women started to drink their tea in unison. Even if their culture were foreign, the protocol they adhered to did not lend the impression of simply an honored guest. None of the women addressed themselves with the title ¡°Markova¡± and they made sure to use the term when addressing or referring to Artemis. Without hearing their private conversations in detail, the word stuck out time and again under their whispered voices. ¡°I am sorry if I have misled you all somehow but I am not a Markova.¡± Artemis said. ¡°My dear, no one who has worked the field could have such fine skin. I do not think our children can be born with such soft and gentle features with their mothers looking as they do. It is undeniable to us that you are the product of a good heritage, no matter what your circumstances may be.¡± Pamilla responded. Artemis was unaccustomed to being appraised on the basis of her looks alone, at least never to her face. In the body of a man without striking features and a childish face, the inconvenience of admiration, jealously, and desire were alien concepts reserved for other people. The attention given by these simple villagers was already stifling, it could only stand to be worse when less wholesome peoples were concerned.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Artemis made no effort to correct Pamilla and said nothing to confirm her assumption. The decision added mystery to her background and proved to be a strong lure for their collective curiosity. Village life was a monotonous affair and the only two stimulants in these doldrums were the inane little nothings they gossiped over and stories from travelers outside the valley. They made sure to take advantage of the stranger with a thorough interrogation. ¡°Where are you from then Markova?¡± A woman asked. ¡°I am from California.¡± Artemis said. ¡°I have never heard of it.¡± The women looked to each other to see if anyone recognized the name. No one was able to recall, whether past or present, a country named California. ¡°And where is this country located?¡± Another woman asked. ¡°I mean to say America. The country is America but I¡¯m from the state of California.¡± Again, the women were confused by her statement. ¡°What are the names of your neighboring countries? Maybe I can draw out where it is.¡± Artemis said. ¡°Vatskanaya borders Lachgaria to the East and Solmati to the West.¡± Pamilla said. Artemis was fond of history and possessed a strong memory to complement her passion. The three states of Vatskanaya, Lachgaria, and Solmati did not register under any telling of historical record. It suggested that all the chronological and cultural knowledge she prided herself in knowing was now more useless than it had been before. The situation did not come as a surprise when the jarring switch in bodies was considered. There was not much time to think about the precarious circumstances surrounding this transformation when the women¡¯s questions were already welling up in their eyes. She said whatever came to mind to keep the conversation going. ¡°America is very far west from here. It¡¯s not a surprise if none of you have heard of it because it is on the other side of the world. I was taught Krovatskan by my tutor but I know nothing about Vatskanaya¡¯s history or culture, let alone anything about the geography or towns.¡± ¡°Ah!¡± A woman yelled. ¡°I understand the situation now!¡± Everyone turned to the woman to hear what she had to say. ¡°Artemis Markova must be the bride of a Markus or a Dragovic!¡± She continued. They found the speculation to be a solid working theory, a classic drama conjured from their imaginations to describe the events leading Artemis to wander the river bank naked and confused. Artemis was the victim of an arranged marriage, an idea drawn from the fantastical stories they recalled from childhood, wherein beautiful Markovas were forced to accept the proposals of old or hideous Markuses. Faced with the transgression of a loveless marriage, she balked at the last second, and fled during her morning bath in a stunning lack of good sense, a condition which often plagued noble ladies. It was a wonder how the searchers did not find Artemis in her dash for freedom and it was suggested that the escort was incompetent or took the wrong turn at the intersection. The women reached these conclusions among themselves with few words to guide the discussion, and Artemis¡¯s baffled face served to be evidence enough. ¡°We will keep you hidden Markova.¡± Pamilla reassured her. The other women nodded their heads in agreement with their hands affixed to their trembling cups. Artemis needed time to plan ahead and could not find the strength to refute their findings. From the moment she woke from under the white birch tree to the taste of bark tea in her mouth, she had been dragged along by the current. The subject of their talk moved onto the marriage statuses of noble bachelors and the identity of the Artemis¡¯ antagonist. There were a few nephews of the king, far removed from succession, and local lords mentioned, gradually shifting from eligible youths to old widowers. The name Kerard Dragovic was raised. Before a single second had transpired, a fit of laughter echoed in the room. Artemis could not leave the name untouched. ¡°Who is Kerard Dragovic?¡± She asked. ¡°A disreputable man lacking loyalty to the king.¡± Pamilla said. ¡°He may control the dominion of West Crusetchia but no one trusts his intentions. The Dragova of Istora has been left waiting six years since they were betrothed and he intends to make her wait still, causing her to become the subject of cruel jokes and baseless speculation.¡± ¡°He seems a horrid man.¡± Artemis said. ¡°Indeed.¡± Came the reply around the room. They finished drinking their cups of tea and remarked at the change in sunlight through the windows. The men would soon return from the fields expecting dinner and nothing could be prepared while they spent their time under Danica¡¯s roof. One by one, the women said their farewells and kissed each other on the cheek before exiting the door with their baskets of clothes until Artemis and Danica remained. ¡°Markova, I invite you to stay. The valley becomes very cold during the night and I do not think your dress will be enough to keep you warm.¡± Artemis accepted the offer without protest. She laid down on her back to look at the ceiling in a bout of introspection as the question of identity lingered in her mind. She was a refugee drifting about devoid of time and purpose, kept in a state of nonexistence by the nature of her arrival. Everything had to be reduced to the practical, simplified to immediate needs and the short term. Each day she passed would be a victory. Danica could tell, by the same supernatural sense afforded to all old women, that Artemis was famished. She hobbled over to the stove and revived the fire by tossing in the remaining sticks from the bundle, heating a simple dinner of leftover bean stew and black bread. Artemis turned her head to the smell of food cooking as it wafted over the room. The cast-iron pot was too hot to the touch to bring over to the table. Danica ladled the contents into a wooden serving vessel and could hardly lift it higher than her waist with her arms buckling under the load. Artemis rose to help despite the protests of her host and set it down at the edge along two clay bowls. Danica divided the thick orange liquid between them and instructed her to eat it with the bread or the stale texture of the bread would be too leathery. Artemis tore a thick slice of black bread apart and could feel how dry and tough it became after an indeterminate time on her shelf. She took a bite to test the flavor and mopped the rest along the base of the bowl to finish the scraps. The taste was nothing special but comfortingly familiar although this was the first time she had tried the dish. Danica asked her if the food was palatable and she answered with a brilliant smile. They finished the stew in a relaxed silence and wandered over to the cots. ¡°Is it difficult to live by yourself Danica?¡± Artemis asked. ¡°I had planned on joining my son in Istora but every year it feels less and less likely. There are far too many things I would need to get settled and my legs are in no condition to make the journey. I do not intend to make excuses in my old age but this is my lot in life.¡± Artemis mulled over the thought while Danica placed fur covers over the bed linens. The window was kept open to air out the smell of smoke and in came the occasional draft from the chilly summer night air. The stove fire died down to the smallest embers and the room grew dark except for the faint red outlines of the dying coals. Artemis rolled herself underneath the bedding and examined the room as her eyes adjusted to the absence of light. It was a pleasant little house with dirty floors, signs of age, and the smell of a stranger¡¯s odor. But each deficiency could be overlooked because of Danica¡¯s hospitality. Artemis was able to sleep at ease on her first night in a strange world. Chapter 1-2 She woke from a deep slumber to the sound of farming life. The din of stone grinding and wood creaking overhead was followed by the sound of stretched limbs and an uncovered yawn. Artemis rose from the warm covers and shivered at the change in temperature, her feet clutched together from touching the cold floor. She climbed the stairs and found Danica hard at work. Fresh chaff littered the floor and the air was thick with flour dust mixed with the scent of an old mule, a gentle soul that quietly circled the path around a simple stone mill. Danica sat on a bench overlooking the mill where she would simultaneously prod the mule along with a long wooden stick and fed the milling stone wheat grains from a large sack at her side. When she saw Artemis across the room, she smiled and said good morning. Artemis could see Danica¡¯s legs hanging over the side, her right leg bent below the knee from being improperly set. The lack of medical care out in the countryside was not a surprise but it brought her disquiet; the injury would have put Danica in constant pain throughout the day. A sympathetic desire to aid the old woman panged her heart and a revelation came to her. She realized the act of curing Danica was simple and well within her power to do. It only required a change in perspective, a process Artemis could only describe as revelatory, opening before her a third existence hitherto unknown to the residents of either world, whether they lay on the side containing Pancia or the one containing California. Her body remained in Pancia but the surroundings lacked impermeability, their very form alterable like the lines of a drawing. Danica the genial old woman, was no more permanent than a clay figure before the craftsman had baked it in the oven. Time decelerated to a crawl. The residual movements from the grains of wheat slipping through Danica¡¯s fingers were perceptible to the eye, each individual piece could be counted at a leisurely pace. Artemis reached out to Danica with her feet planted thirty feet away, ignoring the concept of depth and distance with impunity as her hands fell on Danica¡¯s shoulder, before retracting them back to her person. Artemis closed her eyes and opened them to the sound and action of Danica and the mule. ¡°Danica, do you believe in miracles?¡± ¡°I do, as do all followers of the Heavenly Council.¡± Danica said. ¡°Do miracles have the power to heal?¡± Danica stopped the mule and shifted her body to face her. ¡°Is something the matter Markova? Not all afflictions require miracles to cure them.¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m fine. I just want to know.¡± Artemis said. ¡°Miracles can do many things but they are reserved for the devout and the deserving. Only the Madi, the earthly agents of the Heavenly Council can perform them.¡± ¡°Would you reject their blessing?¡± ¡°I am not worthy.¡± Artemis returned to the revelatory state and a surge of relief came over her as nothing could feel more natural. The difference was akin to closing one¡¯s dominant eye before opening it again, revealing the space obscured by closing off half your vision. A load of stress taken off the mind. Artemis could see Danica¡¯s being in its entirety, a cold objective measure of every scar on her skin to the weakening structure of her bones. The observation was frightening. Mortality was left undisguised in the time afforded to this old woman, counted down to the last second before death would claim her. More than can be said for any doctor, her life lay in Artemis¡¯s hands and she chose to interfere. Danica remained frozen until she took a deep breath into her lifeless body. All the chronic pains and injuries sustained over the decades and days were gone in an instant. Her face looked brighter and the wrinkles subsided, it was as if she were reborn and made to live a life of unbroken austerity to a regimen of good health. The sudden release from physical weakness made her jump, not for any purpose except it was now possible after being confined to the ground for ages. And she knew with unwavering conviction who effected this miracle. The first conscious decision she made with this newfound strength was to prostrate herself before this divine figure, a religious existence who had performed a personal miracle for her. It was beyond Danica¡¯s imagination to understand what significance this entailed for her. Artemis pondered the meaning as well. There could not have been a person more distant from the world as she was, someone without lineage or peers, a point sitting alone on a fixed graph. This was not an eternal condition, and even if the bonds she forged were unequal and strained, they were not impossible to make. The point could be connected with the lines surrounding her. They stared at each other to sum up this new relationship. ¡°Danica, if you no longer have a reason to refuse your son¡¯s request, let me accompany you to Istora.¡± She needed a clear objective to have any grasp on the future. ¡°I have no objection. None at all.¡± Danica struggled to find a title to attribute the girl standing in front of her. ¡°Madi.¡± ¡°Who decides if someone is a Madi?¡± Artemis asked. ¡°The gods, Madi, the gods decide.¡± ¡°Please call me Artemis. I am not familiar with the gods.¡± Danica unstrapped the harness from around the mule¡¯s mouth and pointed it out the barn door in the direction of the shepherd boys. It exited the building without protest, eager to be freed from the morning¡¯s exhaustion. Artemis followed Danica to the ground floor and helped her to remove perishable ingredients from the pantry. Everything that could not last the journey was used to prepare a substantial breakfast of fried eggs, cured meat, foraged greens, ripe fruit, salted butter, and more black bread.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Artemis ate at the table while Danica rummaged through the bottom of an old cabinet seated in the corner of the room, removing layer after layer of winter clothing from the drawer before she found what it was she was looking for, an old scroll tied down with a scarlet string knot. Pleased with the discovery, she walked over to table and announced that she would sell the house at the county office in Novska. Artemis asked if she were better served by thinking it over but Danica refused to delay her decision, spurred by the preceding events. They would be able to return to the house on the way back from town, allowing them the luxury of packing lightly. Most of the equipment was stuffed into a large rucksack Danica carried while Artemis negotiated for the responsibility to carry anything at all. Gifted with an old pair of shoes, they left the house together and were immediately pushed onward by a rolling wave of air smelling sweetly of crushed grass and flowers in the summer heat. Over the summit of the village, the extent of the valley was revealed to Artemis. Its expanse grew wider looking on and its length was considerable, unable to be captured in a single frame from the edge. They traveled down to the river flowing through. Travelers depended on the simple dirt road aside the river to navigate through the landscape while the inhabitants of the valley moved through the terrain with the benefit of local knowledge. Even in the center of the valley where the mountains were hidden from view, their sense of direction never wavered. Danica led Artemis off the beaten road. The sun started to wane in the early afternoon and an oppressive mugginess drew its humidity from the various streams trickling down the mountain sides. Small clearings made by the villagers were the only manmade influences over long stretches of evergreen forest where the quiet made the hike serene if somewhat lonely compared to the raucous afternoon from the day before. They came upon an apple orchard carved out from the slope of the hill where workers darted below the branches to collect the ripened fruit off trees pruned to half their adult height. A number of the young men and boys recognized Danica¡¯s white hair and waved to them during their duties. Their employer, a gentle-looking man, approached them and called out to Danica with a wide grin on his face. When he came close enough to see their faces clearly, the warm gregarious manner in which he had addressed her retreated and he bowed deeply without saying much beyond introducing himself as Danither. ¡°Please don¡¯t let me ruin the conversation.¡± Artemis said. ¡°Markova, I would never dare imply such a thing.¡± ¡°There is no need to be so formal, I am not a Markova. I am just a traveler and a friend of Danica¡¯s.¡± Danither¡¯s eyes cast over to Danica for confirmation and then fell to the ground. Artemis nudged Danica to speak in her place. ¡°It is true, she is not a Markova.¡± Danica paused, expecting Artemis to say something and continued speaking uninterrupted. ¡°But I cannot say she is a commoner. I believe she is a Madi and have experienced her miracles firsthand. I would not be standing here if not for her blessing.¡± Danither listened on and nodded his head to show he heard every word. ¡°Where are you traveling to?¡± He said. ¡°We are headed north to Novska.¡± Danica replied. Danither whistled a loud note and yelled out the name ¡°Tislo¡±. A scrawny young boy answered the call by running down the row of trees to his father¡¯s side. His face looked undependable and he could hardly stand still for a second, wobbling from side to side on the edges of his feet. Artemis smiled at the young boy which made his face burn a bright red. ¡°Tislo, help Danica and the Madi find their way into town, and carry their supplies for them. Take care of the Madi, she is a holy woman.¡± ¡°Yes father!¡± Tislo said. ¡°If you are not in a hurry, I welcome both of you to stay the night. We can call for the shepherds to bring us a lamb in celebration of your good health and to honor the Madi.¡± ¡°Danither, let us accept your offer when we return, after we are tired and hungry.¡± Danica said. ¡°Our hospitality does not follow a single direction my old friend, this is true for everyone living in the valley.¡± They smiled and embraced one another. ¡°I have not seen you so full of life since I was Tislo¡¯s age Danica. Be well and may you have a safe journey.¡± He turned to Artemis. ¡°Madi, please instill some good morals in my son. I leave this task to the gods.¡± They exchanged farewells and left the sundried roads of the orchard. ¡°Danica, how long is the journey to the town center?¡± Artemis asked. ¡°We should be there by tomorrow afternoon.¡± ¡°But this is not the fastest way through the mountains Danica, we could be there sooner.¡± Tislo said. ¡°A guide should pay attention to the people in his company. I am an old woman and Artemis is a Madi, there is no point in saving a few hours if we will need to use them to recover.¡± ¡°If you say so Danica, but we¡¯ve been walking for an hour at a good pace. I don¡¯t think we will have any trouble going through the cliffs instead.¡± Artemis looked toward the mountains where the steep walls seemed to extend from below the tree line to the summit. She could not see where the cliffs might be on such an impenetrable fa?ade and wondered if Tislo and Danica might be talking about a section of the range further down the valley. ¡°Where are the cliffs? I don¡¯t see anything from where I¡¯m standing.¡± Artemis said. ¡°The mountains are thin, and beneath the rock is a space where villagers can use to move unimpeded by traders. In truth, they face out to the Restreikan Mountain Wall at some sections of the passage, and so we do not call it that meaning to mislead you Madi.¡± Danica said. ¡°If such a path exists, why don¡¯t we take it then?¡± ¡°There is a long descent down from the passage when we reach the town. People who are not used to the mountains might find it difficult.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯ll be alright. If you don¡¯t object, let¡¯s take to the cliffs.¡± Danica expressed concern about Artemis¡¯s safety but relented. Tislo smiled and raced along, leading them deeper into the forest and away from the road, far enough to make it difficult to find their way back without spending the afternoon cutting through the thicket. They snaked through the trees, swatted at low hanging webs and brushed aside unruly branches overhead while Tislo kept close to the ground and waited for them ahead. As Artemis gradually caught up to the boy, she started to notice what signs Tislo depended on for guidance. There were unintentional hints such as broken branches and bent foliage, superseded by manmade markings on the smooth gray bark of a singular species of tree. Tislo did his part by deepening the cuts with a small knife he used to carve out the arrows at waist height. By late afternoon they arrived at the edge of the mountain, a near vertical wall seen from below and slanted from a distance. Tislo did not worry about the spot they found themselves in and walked onward, confident in the message transmitted by the markings. If they were to be believed the opening was straight ahead. Tislo came to a halt and looked behind at them over his shoulder. There were no obvious entrances at this location to lead Artemis to believe they had arrived at the opening despite all the markings suggesting so. Danica remarked how the breeze and shade would be a relief in the summer heat and wiped the sweat from her forehead before walking back to the forest. A few meters away from the mountain wall, a large boulder pierced its way above ground from under a petrified tree, lifting it dirt, roots, and all. They swung around the tree and found a pit under the rock. ¡°This entrance is one of many hidden in the forest.¡± Danica said. The entrance was shrouded in darkness, obscured by the dense thicket overhead. Tislo and Danica dropped down to the bottom undeterred and disappeared from view. Artemis stared down at the darkness and leapt after them, following the sound of their breath and the rustling of their hands and knees as they crawled on the floor. She began to wave her hand to feel for the walls and ceased when they had gone on ahead. In her rush to regroup, she misjudged the length of the tunnel and tumbled into the passage on her face. Chapter 1-3 Tislo extended Artemis a hand to pull her to her feet. She accepted the help and brushed the dirt off her dress. The cavernous interior of the passage was lit by the slivers of light that penetrated through the cracks in the wall and the smell of fresh air pervaded the corridor, a wide path hemmed in by the steep slanted ceiling. This compared favorably to the winding roads in the valley where the rivers and forest contorted travel by their presence alone and where the sun singed the back of their necks. Artemis could go a ways yet. Her feet remained light and fatigue did not sink into her legs. The allure of open air bade her forward to a natural window, formed by rockslides where an entire section of the wall was exposed to the outside. Artemis ran to the opening and leaned out to the see the view, the Restreikan Mountain Wall extending far into the horizon and shaped in the most inhospitable manner, jagged spires lunging at the skies at odd angles. Their impervious shapes denied entry entirely and forced travelers to stay within the valley. The sight was impressive and disheartening. Her two companions wore themselves down to maintain an even pace with Artemis and the lack of conversation led Artemis to mental exhaustion. They all made the decision to camp for the night. Tislo removed some kindling from their luggage and started to build a small fire. The nights in the valley were cold and doubly so in the passage where the seasons had little effect on the environment, except during winter when trapped snow remained undisturbed until villagers shoveled it out. None of their food required cooking so they used the fire to brew tea, snacking on little biscuits and dried fruit while huddled under a thick cotton blanket. Tislo did not mind laying his head next to Danica but he shivered whenever Artemis touched him with her shoulder. She thought it funny and made it a point to poke him every now and again under the guise of shifting her seat. This game went on for a while and afterward they all stared at the fire in a cozy daze. Their rest was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from ahead. Knowledge of the passage was well-kept to the villagers but travelers had been known to explore on occasion. Tislo rose to sit on one knee in preparation, hand in his pocket fondling the handle of his small knife. The face of the man walking down the slope became illuminated by the fire and his grip relaxed. ¡°Vladirok!¡± ¡°Tislo boy, it is a surprise to see you here during the picking season, and tucked between two women no less.¡± Vladirok had a small face trapped within a large head, covered by a thin layer of gray hair over the back and on his chin. He wore a thick jacket with pockets sewed on in a random fashion and whose purpose was mysterious. ¡°Is that you Danica?¡± He squinted his eyes to adjust to the light. ¡°I am surprised to see you walking around! This is good news.¡± ¡°I have been fortunate Vladirok, I hope this is true for you as well. How has the trade gone for you this season? Is there any news from outside?¡± ¡°The Lachgars have waged war against Istora in the south. It has raised the price of everything in uneven ways and I am not sure if I am better off or not after everything has been tallied. I will need to ask Pamilla about the numbers and no doubt she will complain about this and that. Say, who is the stranger sat next to you Tislo? I can hardly see her face from this angle.¡± Artemis removed the blanket from her cheek and smiled at him. ¡°I apologize Markova. I could not see you from where I was standing.¡± ¡°That is alright. I am not a Markova anyway. My name is Artemis¡± ¡°Is that so? Then you must come from a great city because I would not have bet against it. Are you headed north because of the war?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve only plans to do business in Novska, and then on we will turn south to join my son in Istora.¡± Danica said. ¡°I would advise against it. The Lachgars may be honorable enemies but the citizens of Vatskanya are less scrupulous. Bandits roam Crusetchia like locusts, destroying everything in their path if they do not pocket it. I do not doubt the army is doing what they can but they cannot afford to leave their stations and abandon the war. It is all left to Kerard Dragovic to keep the state together.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what you see in him Vlad, he is a disloyal man and a dangerous one too.¡± Danica said. ¡°But he is like his father, a true warrior and a good statesman. I think he would do better than our pious king to rule the nation. Isn¡¯t that right Tislo? Wouldn¡¯t you want to serve in his army?¡± ¡°I would if my father would let me! In two years I will be old enough.¡± Tislo said. ¡°Don¡¯t look so disapproving Danica, my own son is fighting in the army. I can¡¯t help praising them.¡± Vladirok sat down beside the fire and removed a small wooden box from an inside pocket. He unwrapped the paper from one side and slid it open, revealing a colorful assortment of irregularly shaped hard candies. Everyone reached for a piece and let it rest on their tongues, savoring the sweet taste instead of biting down on the brittle crystal. Vladirok carefully folded the paper and tucked it back in his pocket. ¡°Markova, won¡¯t you keep speaking? Your voice is sweet sounding.¡± Vladirok said. ¡°I am a foreigner to this country. I thought it better to listen more and speak less.¡± Artemis said. Vladirok laughed. ¡°We are all unlearned people here. We would do better listening to you.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Danica and Vladirok talked about life in the village, sentimental words about how things had changed and how others remained the same. He smiled and rubbed his eyes while they spoke. Tislo and Artemis fought to keep awake under closed eyelids but fell asleep to the sound of their voices. By morning they could not recall the stories and Vladirok was already gone. They all gathered their belongings together and began walking the last stretch of the passage. It was out in the open air where the sunrise greeted them early on the eastern face of the mountain, until the trail diverged and drifted to the bottom of the canyon. Instead they reentered the valley through a long manmade tunnel, not any different from the rest of the cliffs except for the menacing howl of the wind blowing dust onto their faces. Light shone at the other side. Artemis sprinted out from the darkness and embraced the vista below. Life abounded in the valley, sustained by a confluence of rivers from the north and south joined at the edge of town to form a great lake docked full with small barges and floating shops. Each end of the river flowed to the center, confining all the shipping traffic inside the valley and requiring transport by land outside to the bordering provinces. Traders and travelers alike trickled into town from both land and water looking like small toy pieces. The descent was not unassailable yet tough to traverse, common trails were flattened and pounded smooth by generations of feet. Artemis raised her head to take a wider view of the town and in the process shook violently before regaining her balance. Her guides did not pay any mind to her shaky footing and trudged along to the base of the mountain with the dexterity of mountain goats, finding steps where Artemis could not see them. The earlier speed on the flat ground of the passage dissipated with caution as Artemis took her time to join them. Danica retrieved a black shawl from her pack and instructed Artemis to wrap it around her face before entering town, a disguise suggesting modesty instead of suspicion for onlookers. Novska was a lively backwater port town with a small population of permanent residents and occupied by seasonal crowds. The lack of settlers inhibited more construction from being built and all the inhabitants were forced to congregate at the town center where meagre housing presented itself. Danica described the people here as rude and tolerant of each other for the sake of a transaction, strangers again after money exchanged hands. The mountain trail brought them in contact with villagers returning from town, ready to begin the climb they had just descended. They repeated Vladirok¡¯s news about the war and displayed bulging coin bags for Danica to admire before leaving. Tislo led them through the hills and onto the main thoroughfare of the town, where a number of wholesalers unloaded their wares outside the storefronts lining the road during the early morning rush, when out-of-towners remained asleep in their rooms. Everyone conducted business without saying a word to one another as they crossed words off lists with pens made of charcoal. The lone establishment that carried a crowd was a rough little shop with faded signage drenched in the smell of frying dough. Danica suggested they have breakfast there before meeting the officer. Inside, people ordered at the counter and picked up their food on black checkered cloth, folding the creases over rectangular pastries stuffed with cheese and spiced onions, generously layered under sour cream and eaten without utensils or napkins. Artemis and Tislo walked around the back to find seats while Danica waited in line. The wooden booths were unpadded and resembled church pews in appearance, placed on both sides of a small circular table. The chairs were uncomfortable to sit in and were splintered at the edges from years of misuse. Artemis watched the clientele and noticed only middle-aged men visited the little restaurant, tearing at their food with grimy fingers in complete silence except for grunts and the sound of chewing. She recalled few women out at this time of day. Danica returned from the counter and laid the pastries out on the table. Artemis peered over at the menu board and read the words with ease, only to discover the name was unlisted and just the prices were written down. Two pastries for one-eighth Crowns and five for one-fourth Crowns. Artemis removed the shawl from her mouth and took a bite of the steaming hot pastry. The hot liquid burned her tongue and dripped down her chin. Without the feverish hunger on the first day to drive her appetite, she decided to wait for the food to cool before eating. She watched Tislo scarf down his food in two mouthfuls and resumed taking small breathless bites and chewed for some time. The lack of practiced fine-motor skills made eating look clumsy and odd, while broader actions such as the hike made good use of her exceptional stamina and strength. Danica remarked at how childlike she appeared and laughed. A man eyed their movements from the moment they entered the store. He was twice the size of Tislo and a head taller than the men in his company, draped with an unkempt beard oiled so liberally that the liquid shone. With long lurching steps, he bridged the distance from the row over and stood over them while they ate. ¡°Grandmother, did you not cook breakfast for your grandchildren? Or is she your daughter? No, you¡¯re much too old for that, wouldn¡¯t be possible.¡± The brazen lack of respect caught Artemis unprepared. She grasped onto her shawl with the force of a clamp as the mood they shared dissipated. ¡°Why is she covered grandmother? Let me see her face, or maybe she is a deformed creature? That would be worth seeing.¡± Patrons and workers alike ignored the situation and continued eating or doing their work. The men who sat with the belligerent turned to watch with their legs open and their stomachs falling out in the air, chuckling at the comments their compatriot made. The man, encouraged by their jests, made a half-hearted lunge at Artemis¡¯s shawl. Tislo sprang up from his seat to intercept him. ¡°Don¡¯t you touch her!¡± He yelled. The man was pleased by the response he elicited and hovered over Tislo with impunity, eager to start a fight. Artemis placed her hand on Tislo¡¯s back and crossed into the revelatory state. Beyond their bodies was something ethereal and formless, a mixture of light and dust resembling the galaxies in the night sky, ebbing back and forth from one host to another and drawn from a deeper source which seemed limitless. She could redirect the flow freely to her chosen vessel but found it difficult to drain what had already settled in place. With the power to give blessings, Artemis allowed a stream of the mysterious ether to enter Tislo¡¯s body and watched it transform the boy. Tislo was gone. He was replaced by a ferocious bear standing eight feet tall and four feet wide, full of bloodlust and armed with overwhelming strength, striking a primal terror in the frozen faces of the prey who stared on. Sweat raced down the man¡¯s temples as his eyes winced under the pressure exerted by the boy¡¯s stare, locked in a duel he wanted badly to escape. The young boy who did not register five feet tall, stamped his foot on the ground with a reverberating thud, knocking the man on his back as he pushed away from Tislo on the palms of his hands. He rose to his feet and bolted out the room to the backs of the onlookers, already a figment in their minds. Tislo came off a high so powerful that his body shuddered at the impact of its drop. Artemis caught his body in her arms and hugged him around his waist, holding him just below her chin. His thin frame and short stature was so light on her chest she wondered if it was unfair to place this burden on him ignorant of the consequences. Artemis woke Danica from the shock and together they lifted Tislo out the store unimpeded. Chapter 1-4 Tislo was slumped over Artemis¡¯s shoulders on the walk over to the country office. His limbs twitched as he regained function and he whispered in a short breath to be let off on the ground. Whatever inflated pride was left over from confronting the man was thoroughly expelled. She smiled and told him to rest. The office was built in a peculiar location stuck between a large inn and a small general store. There was no practical reason to connect the three buildings and it served to diminish the official designations embroidering the knockers and frame. The door was unlocked so they entered to find a poorly lit room decorated in a drab theme evoking none of the colors outside. A young man sat at the receptionist desk leafing through a legal book without noticing the guests. When the door slammed shut, the sound caught his attention and he rose from his book to motion them forward. He was a bookish individual with pale skin and spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose, informing them that they should expect to wait two hours before the local official would meet them, though it could possibly take until late afternoon. The message was not relayed in a haughty tone, it sounded to be the honest truth. Artemis stood in front of the desk. ¡°Why is there such a long delay in meeting him?¡± She asked. The young man blushed and bowed slightly in apology. ¡°He is preoccupied with other matters.¡± Artemis unfurled the cloth from her head and looked at him with her naked face. ¡°And should they take the full two hours?¡± The young receptionist sat in his seat for ten hours a day, spending half an hour for lunch in the backroom after locking the front door, and another hour walking around outside looking for dinner. Artemis¡¯s clear blue eyes were so brilliant and crisp they reflected the morning sky in their clarity, sending a sharp chill through his legs to rouse him awake. Captivated by her beauty he dropped to his seat in defeat. ¡°I will check with the master.¡± The young man ran off into the next room. His muffled voice could be heard in conversation and it grew exceedingly panicked with each returning shout. Rustled papers and heavy footsteps echoed in the air, when not a minute later, an older looking man with a balding head and a spirited mustache entered the room to examine the visitors. When he spotted Artemis, the anger on his face evaporated and a cordial smile replaced it. ¡°Good morning Markova, my name is Capan, how may I serve you?¡± ¡°We have a property we would like to sell.¡± ¡°Very well, if you would provide me with the documentation.¡± Capan did not delay in standing face to face with Artemis in full expectation that she would provide him with the papers, only to be interrupted by Danica¡¯s hand extending over his chest. He retrieved the papers and looked confused by the property under discussion, taking cursory looks over the top while he read through the details. Once he had finished, he again turned to Artemis and spoke. ¡°The owner of this deed is Danica Babic, may I ask your relation to this woman?¡± ¡°I am Danica Babic sir.¡± Danica interrupted. ¡°And what terms are you looking for in this transaction?¡± He asked. ¡°There is no need to find a buyer, I am fine with a sale at the fixed rate.¡± Danica said. ¡°And the proceeds, they will go to the Markova?¡± ¡°I am fine with that arrangement.¡± After hearing Danica¡¯s request to put the proceeds toward Artemis¡¯s name, he looked visibly relieved, able to justify the transaction as repossession of a peasant¡¯s house. The thought of enriching the young Markova made him unusually happy and he was all too eager to conclude what must have been an unpleasant affair for her. A story came to life in his head, imagining how the slow-witted old woman had reached an age where she was unable to provide a living from the land, and her young master, generous in her disposition, was willing to overlook the obligations and debts in exchange for a mere pittance. This made perfect sense to him but the property would only fetch eight Kruna, a sum equivalent to a monthly expenditure for women of her stature and so it might be taken as offensive when the price was discussed. He desired to change the subject. ¡°Markova, may I ask for your name?¡± ¡°My name is Artemis.¡± ¡°I do not intend to intrude on your private affairs but may I ask about your lineage?¡± ¡°I could not say even if I wanted to.¡± Capan tried to make sense of her statement. Nobles were not always forthcoming about themselves but this answer was somewhat suspicious. ¡°She is of divine lineage, Mr. Capan. A Madi.¡± Danica said.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The allegation of religious authority was not a small matter. If Artemis were indeed a Madi, Capan would need to follow the proper protocol in his interactions with her, demanded by both official decorum and his own religious leanings. Only one had to be roundabout in asking for evidence, and he was not aware of any new Madis being inducted into the Earthly Council, more so a beautiful young woman. ¡°Boy, did you come along with them?¡± Tislo sat up from a waiting chair in the front. ¡°Yes sir, I was their guide in the valley.¡± ¡°I see. Then you are headed to the Capital in Restreika?¡± ¡°No sir, we are headed south to Istora.¡± Danica said. ¡°A dangerous endeavor. It will not be safe traveling without protection.¡± ¡°We will find a way Capan.¡± Artemis said. ¡°You are quite optimistic Madi, but I suppose it is easier to be optimistic when the gods reveal the future to you.¡± Capan shuffled the papers in his hands and continued speaking. ¡°Now then, Danica, I believe you must be a woman of great faith if you are willing to donate your life savings to the Madi.¡± ¡°It didn¡¯t require any faith sir, she performed a miracle for me.¡± Capan raised his eyebrow at this statement. The lull in conversation made his interest obvious. ¡°Forgive my insolence Madi, but as a believer, it is rare to be presented with such an auspicious occasion. I would like to make a proposition to you.¡± ¡°Very well.¡± Artemis said. ¡°If the land is sold at the fixed rate, I will give you the eight Kruna without complaint and our business is concluded. However, if you were to honor me with a miracle, I would add an additional twelve Kruna to your sum for a total of twenty Kruna. This is double the compensation you would receive if an eager buyer were to make an offer. For the scale of the miracle, I leave you to judge what twelve Kruna is worth.¡± ¡°Sir Capan, this is unusual. I dare say it is sacrilege!¡± Danica said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Danica. If it will make our journey easier, then I will accept.¡± Artemis said. ¡°Wonderful! Now it is just a matter of finding someone to receive your blessing.¡± Artemis looked around the room and down to the floor. They all followed the path of her eyes, curious to discover what it was that she was looking for. ¡°There is no need to involve outsiders in our agreement. I can heal your injury Capan.¡± ¡°Artemis Madi, I have no idea what you are referring to.¡± ¡°Your foot Capan. I will heal it.¡± Artemis raised her arms and the miracle was complete. Capan¡¯s eyes expanded in shock as he felt an extremity that had long been severed from his body. During the Three Year War with the Wageutz, Capan acted as a stand-in for the son of the local lord Jalovic Markus in the battle over Eastern Crusetchia. He joined for a single skirmish on the Telgrade Plains and had a forked pike driven through his foot after a horseman missed his chest. When the two sides had retreated to their respective positions, the doctors sawed his foot off to prevent infection and the injury sent him to the back lines for the duration of the conflict. For the next thirty years, a wooden block had served as a poor replacement until the force of a newly grown foot sent it flying into the air along with his shoe. The young receptionist watching the scene hidden behind the office door gasped. Tislo duplicated his shock with an open jaw. Capan wiggled his toes and began tapping it on the floor to test if it were an illusion and when he realized it was permanent, started shouting in disbelief. ¡°How?¡± Capan asked no one in particular. Taking ample time to calm down, Capan started speaking to Artemis with a deferential tone. ¡°Forgive me Madi, it was wrong of me to test you.¡± ¡°You are forgiven. I only ask that you honor the deal.¡± Artemis said. Capan pointed to the back room and the receptionist disappeared behind the office door to retrieve a small metal chest with a padded lock. Capan tore the key from around his neck and removed twenty Kruna from its contents, presenting the sum to Artemis with both hands and his head bowed. Artemis accepted the coins and assumed an accurate accounting, she did not know what one or twenty Kruna looked like. ¡°Madi, I received reports from the royal messengers that say the siege of Istora will not lift in the coming weeks. The territories around Istora and Crusetchia have become dangerous and the army is preoccupied. Many opportunists have emerged to take advantage of chaos. I think it would best for you to head north to the Temple of Restreika where it is secure.¡± Capan said. Artemis thanked him for the advice. The miracle of regaining a foot made Capan unfocused in his duties and he was forced to instruct the receptionist to fill out the documents for the deed transfer in his place. It was an awkward environment having performed a miracle before all the paperwork was signed and they conducted the rest of the proceedings in silence. Artemis was not happy to see her name listed on the records with the title ¡°Madi¡± but made no objections to the designation, having to spell out her name due to its foreign origin. When all the work was concluded, Capan thanked her profusely and the three of them left the office exhausted. Artemis clutched the silver coins in her hand, counted out ten pieces, and handed them over to Danica. She removed a single coin from her own share and rewarded Tislo for serving as their guide to the city. Neither protested the sum out of modesty and Artemis wondered if it were not much after all. They turned away from the office and continued down the main thoroughfare to the sound of hawkers shouting from portable stalls. The streets were an absolute mess down the center and the lack of a proper sewage system made itself apparent to anyone arching their legs over the muck, periodically refilled by the inhabitants dumping their waste with indifference. Without the strength of the summer sun, the puddled liquid would have risen to the edges. A sickly smell wafted all around the street but was even more concentrated around a donkey drawn cart led by a scruffy old man staring at them with a thousand year old face. He offered to collect their trash for two Crowns and turned away when they refused his services. They walked along to the other side of the street where a storefront window display caught Artemis¡¯s attention. A red and white dress laced with intricate geometric patterns and floral designs over the waist and shoulders were adorned on a wooden mannequin. She did not care for the red shawl draped over its head but the dress she wore was torn at the edges and in need of retirement. Artemis asked if they could wait for her to make the purchase, to which they agreed and entered the crowded little room piled with folded clothes. The owner, a dour middle-aged woman wearing the same red scarf, greeted Artemis with anticipation, leading her in a circle to inspect the best garments offered at her store. Artemis pointed to the mannequin and offered to buy the dress if it fit her and the woman started to measure her neck and arms. Tislo and Danica stood around uninterested, waiting for the purchase to be completed. Once the preparations were complete, Danica took the owner aside and haggled the price down to two hundred Crowns from one-fourth of a Kruna. The number seemed exorbitant to Artemis either way but she accepted the deal. Clad in new clothes, they made their way over to the inn to settle in for the night.