Chapter 2

About an hour later I'm kicking some dirt over the remains of our tiny fire and walking South, Lily just behind me. We both wear our worn black hoodies over our large tees, mine solid white, hers a light purple with the picture of a sliced melon on the front. While I wear a pair of ripped blue jean shorts and a pair of thick military combat boots Lily wears a pair of baggy jeans over pink sneakers.

Before I can avert my gaze Lily looks at me. "Is there something wrong?"

"How are your clothes fitting? Do you need new shoes or anything?" I ask, scrutinizing her feet.

"They're fine. They're actually a little big, but I'll grow into them. Larger clothing lasts longer, that's what you always tell me. You can wear it longer."

I nod. "Shoes are a little different. If they're too large they could be hard to walk in."

"I'm ok." Lily says, turning her gaze back to the trail.

Several minutes pass where we walk in silence, stepping over fallen trees and moving around thick undergrowth. There's a trail not far from here that I'm heading to. Usually I don't like trails because you see other people on them, but in this case I can't avoid it.

"Here," I say suddenly, tossing a bag of crackers to Lily. "Eat."

"What about you?"

"Not hungry."

Lily hesitates a moment longer before carefully opening the bag of crackers and munching on them quietly.

"Hope?" Lily asks once she's done.

"What is it?"

"Do you- do you think we'll ever expand our group?"

I pause. "Why would you want to expand our group?" I ask carefully.

"I just- I just thought," Lily stammers, beginning to get upset.

I turn and bend down to look her in the eyes. She immediately looks away to avoid my gaze.

"Lily," I say softly, "I'm not mad at you. You're not in trouble. I just want to know how you got that idea."

Lily frowns. "The- the last village we visited. I saw a group of kids playing and I wanted to join them, but they wouldn't let me. Said that we couldn't be friends since I was just passing through. When I asked them what friends were, one of them explained that they were someone you could play with and who had your back, and who was around your age."

"Lily-" I start, but she cuts me off, her eyes darting towards mine and shining desperately. Her next sentences are rushed, as if by saying them quickly I won't be able to get as angry with her.

"That's- That's not all. There was a man and a woman, and one of the kids said they were his parents, and that they were a whole lot- a lot more than friends. He said they made each other very happy and I just thought- I just thought- what if you had someone like that, to make you happy?"

I take a moment to process what Lily said. Once I realize what it was I burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" Lily asks, her face flushing in embarrassment.

"Oh, Lily. You are too precious. You see, I don't need anyone to make me happy. Why would I when I have you?" I ask, smiling.

Lily visibly relaxes. "You don't want to ever find a friend?" she asks, frowning.

I sigh. "Lily, I need you to understand something. Do you think you'll be able to do that for me?"

She nods.

I continue. "The lifestyle we live doesn't make room for friends. We've been cast out to the side like nothing, and we only have each other to trust. Friends are great, but it's very rare to find real ones, the people that truly have your back and won't betray you. You won't hear about it a lot, but it's extremely common, and I don't want you getting hurt. Do you understand?"

Lily nods. "I'm sorry." She whispers.

I hug her. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad you're looking out for both of us. You did nothing wrong."

Lily nods again, hugging me back.

Later that evening, as the sun is setting we step into the next village, called Wyvern's Keep. The name originally belonged to an old tavern that is somehow still open, and the small town became so well known for its fresh booze they decided to name their home after their beloved pub.

"What are we doing here?" Lily asks, keeping a tight hold on my hand.

"We're here for supplies," I reply. "We're running a bit low on food and I need to replace my knife and crossbow."

I head to a stand and begin browsing over their array of weapons. They keep their knives tucked in expensive-looking cloths beneath a glass panel and their bows, crossbows, swords, and ammo either hung up behind them within the dark booth or in wooden barrels. They keep a worn-looking anvil in the center, and a tall, dark man walks out of an open area with a sword in hand, wiping it with a white cloth held in his other.

"See anything you like?" he asks.

I take a moment to glance over the weapons once more, pointing to a nice looking hunting knife with a roaring panther embedded in the sheath. "How much for that?" I ask.

"A hunter I see," the guy says, his tone intrigued. "That beauty right there is worth 70 gold coins. It came from a smith family known for their fatal works. A family of assassins, they were. You can see their signature here." He pulls out the blade in its sheath and holds it out to me, pointing to the tiny script on the bottom with fingers scarred and blackened from years spent in weapon making.

"Hope, huh? That was a family of four, right? Amethyst's mother's grandfather made that."

"I'm surprised you know so much. Not many people know hardly anything about the family." The smith says.