"Our pasts led us here, but they do not dictate every step we shall make in future," Lacrimae told him in a somehow dim voice, before wishing him a restful night and departing. How ironic it was, for her to lecture others how past was to remain no more than guiding light, when she willing let it dictate her whole life. And, yet, the knowledge it was far more than her happiness on the line, the elf couldn't do anything but follow the path set ahead.

Next morning welcomed Kevlar with delicious looking breakfast, but the priestess was nowhere to be seen. Marwolaeth neither, for that matter. If he inquired, the servant would explain that Mae was already in library, researching about their journey, working out details. If he wished to, he was welcome to join. If asked had she eaten, the maids would exchange a slightly uncomfortable looks and avoid answering outright.

The town beyond tower's gates was also a viable option for spending the day. After all, plentiful rumors could find their way to the knight's ears, if he knew where to look. Perhaps that was where the blood-mage had headed to? But he could also spend a day relaxing in the beautiful gardens, did he not deserve a rest after all of the chaos of past few days?