Daughter of the Light HTML version

Mistby was a town you went to if you traveled. When you went to the south or the north. It was a
large town. A town with houses in several stories, large squares and market places, cobble stoned
streets and several inns. Tinby was merely a clutter of huts compared to Mistby. Dalby was nothing
in comparison either. She was not at all used to being in such a large town. This was the first time
she had even been in a human town of this kind.
She had weighed for and against spending the night in Mistby. She could have ridden around the
town and spend the night in a forest or clearing as the night before, but with the eeriness fresh in
mind, the thought of a bed and a roof over her head won. Vanil would probably have preferred the
freedom to a stable, but would the mare not probably forgive her again?
Enilia left Vanil in the inn’s stable with an apologetic smile and a thousand promises to make it up
to her. The mare simply shot her a glance before she went at the oats in the manger. Enilia felt bad,
but she could not handle another sleepless night in the open. Not alone.
She was shown to her room by a young, stooped boy who disappeared again the minute he had
opened the door for her. She knew why, but ignored the thought. What did it matter anyway?
The room was just a room. Small and dark with only the necessities. A bed, a small table, and a
pillar basin. There were no paintings on the wall and nothing else that could imply that they had
tried to make the room cozy. There was a window to Mistby’s main street. Sixteen small, dark, and
rain wet panes in each their wooden frame.
She stood by the window and looked out into town with her forehead leaned on the window
frame. Her warm breath misted up the panes and she pulled away from the window again. One day
farther away, one day closer to, maybe? The thoughts gained ground in her head now as the day’s
ride was done. Elior, it whispered inside of her. Elior, Elior, Elior.
She cleaned up at the pillar basin and hung her wet clothes to dry by the window. Her stomach
rumbled with hunger and she kept busy by dressing in dry clothes so she could go down and eat in
the inn room.
It was better to think practical. To think about food, think about dry clothes and then a warm bed
to sleep in. To think about where she should ride from there? Where would Elior have gone?
Towards Barovia? Towards Livyliar?
Did he even know where he was going? Had father revealed the gathering point to him? He only
had a few days lead. She had probably hoped that she could catch up with him. However, if he had
not gone towards Mistby at first, it was ruined now.
She pushed away the thoughts again. There was no reason for those thoughts now. They would
only bring it all up again. All of the ugly, unbearable emotions. Everything she fought not to think
about. Just ride; that was what she should do. Ride out and find him. Find him again.
She pulled on her boots, tied them, and left the room. The noise from the inn room beat up against
her through the stairway. Smoke, voices, and a thick smell of food met her in the large inn room.
She slowly walked inside while she tried to find a place where she could sit alone. The humans in
there looked up as she walked by. Stinging glances.
She ignored them the best she could. She knew those glances. Knew them from Tinby and Dalby.
The mistrust and the curiosity. They stated the same: Keep walking, do not sit here, but sit in a
place where we can stare at you.
As if she even had a wish to sit with them. They wanted to stare at her and talk about her, but not
have her too close. Elior and she had laughed at them. Together it had been easy to deal with. Now
it made her angry. But there were also others here. She saw them among the humans.
They sat by themselves. Two sat by the door, talked and laughed. Four others sat at a table by the
counter. Three men and a woman. They were eating. Two other men sat in the middle of the room.
Around them, several tables were free, and she chose one of those.