Elaine's cottage felt smaller somehow as she moved through it one last time. The herbs hanging from the rafters, the organized shelves of remedies, the worn table where she had treated countless villagers—all represented a life she had built and would now abandon. Outside, the afternoon sun cast long shadows across Riverside, the day beginning its slow surrender to evening.

  She packed methodically, selecting only what would fit in her bag. A few changes of clothes, essential herbs that would be difficult to find on the road, the knife she kept more from habit than necessity. The rest—her furniture, her supplies, the small comforts she'd accumulated—she would leave behind.

  A knock at the door interrupted her preparations. Elaine paused, sensing who waited outside before she even turned.

  "Come in, Sarah," she called.

  The door creaked open, revealing the girl's tear-stained face. Sarah stood in the doorway, clutching something wrapped in linen to her chest, hesitating as if suddenly unsure of her welcome.

  "You're really leaving," she said. Not a question, but a painful acknowledgment.

  "Yes," Elaine replied, setting down the shirt she'd been folding. "The village has made its decision."

  "It's not fair," Sarah whispered, entering the cottage and closing the door behind her. "You saved us."

  "Fairness has little to do with it." Elaine gestured to a chair. "Sit with me a moment?"

  Sarah dropped into the offered seat, watching with undisguised misery as Elaine continued to pack. For several minutes, neither spoke, the only sounds the rustle of fabric and the distant noises of village life continuing outside.

  "Where will you go?" Sarah finally asked.

  Elaine considered the question carefully. "I haven't decided yet."

  It wasn't quite a lie. Captain Riona had approached her briefly after the vote, suggesting they speak before any decisions were made. Whether that conversation would offer viable alternatives remained to be seen.

  "I made something for you," Sarah said suddenly, holding out the linen bundle. "So you wouldn't forget us. Forget me."

  Elaine accepted the package, unwrapping it carefully to reveal a small, carved wooden box. The craftsmanship was rough but earnest, clearly the work of Sarah's own hands with perhaps some guidance from her father.

  "Open it," Sarah urged.

  Inside, nestled on a bed of soft wool, lay a simple pendant—a smooth river stone wrapped in delicately woven copper wire. Elaine recognized the stone immediately; Sarah had found it weeks ago during one of their herb-gathering expeditions, exclaiming over its perfect blue-green color.

  "I asked Clarence to help with the wire," Sarah explained, words tumbling out nervously. "He said copper is for healing. And the stone... you said it reminded you of the sea."

  Elaine lifted the pendant, feeling its weight in her palm—not just the physical weight, but the emotional burden it carried. A millennium on the island had taught her to travel light, to abandon possessions without sentiment. This simple gift challenged that hard-won detachment.

  "Thank you," she said quietly. "It's beautiful."

  Sarah wiped fresh tears with her sleeve. "Will you wear it?"

  Elaine slipped the cord over her head, the pendant settling against her sternum. "Yes."

  The girl nodded, a small flicker of satisfaction cutting through her sorrow. "I still want to be a healer," she declared, chin lifting slightly. "Even if you're not here to teach me."

  "You already know more than most apprentices twice your age," Elaine said. "The plants, their properties, how to prepare basic remedies—you've been paying attention."

  "But there's so much more I need to learn."

  Another knock interrupted them, this one firmer. The door opened before Elaine could respond, revealing Mary's worried face.

  "Sarah, your father's looking for you," she said, though her eyes remained fixed on Elaine. "He needs help with Thomas."

  "You'll write, won't you?" Sarah demanded. "When you reach the capital?"

  "I'll write," Elaine promised, meeting Sarah's desperate gaze. She glanced at Mary. "If that's acceptable."

  Mary nodded, her expression softening. "Of course. Our home remains open to your letters... and to you, should you ever wish to return."

  Reluctantly, Sarah stood. She hesitated, then lunged forward, throwing her arms around Elaine's waist in a fierce embrace. "I won't forget you," she whispered. "Ever."

  Elaine returned the embrace carefully, conscious of her strength. "Nor I you," she replied softly.

  After Sarah departed with her mother, Elaine stood alone, turning the copper-wrapped stone between her fingers, feeling its smooth surface catch the light. A memento of belonging, however brief it had been.

  * * *

  A soft knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Captain Riona entered without waiting for a response, her formal guard's uniform exchanged for practical leather traveling clothes. Her posture remained alert, but the fear that had marked their earlier interactions had transformed into something more complex—respect tempered with caution.

  "They love you," she said, gesturing toward the direction Sarah and Mary had gone. "The whole village does."

  "And yet they voted me out," Elaine replied, no accusation in her tone, merely stating fact.

  Riona's gaze dropped briefly. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. My presence here—the delegation's presence—is what brought this upon you and the village."

  "They would have discovered what I am eventually," Elaine replied. "Eventually, something else would have happened that would have forced me to reveal more of what I am. I just didn't expect it to happen so... dramatically.. so soon."

  Riona moved further into the room, her eyes taking in the half-packed belongings. "They feared what they saw yesterday. Fear rarely leads to wise decisions."

  Elaine slipped the pendant over her head, letting it rest against her sternum. "Fear of the unknown is natural. I gave them no reason to understand what I am."

  "And what are you, exactly?" Riona asked, her voice careful but direct.

  Elaine met her gaze steadily. "More than they were prepared for. More than I allowed them to see." She moved to stand before the small mirror near her bed. The face that looked back seemed unchanged from the one that had awakened on that distant beach a millennium ago—yet everything else had transformed.

  "I never lied to them about what I am," she said softly, watching her reflection. "But I knew showing them this side would frighten them." Elaine touched the pendant at her throat. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this."

  "You could have hidden your abilities during the attack," Riona observed. "Let my guards handle it."

  "What would have been the point of that? You and your guards would have died. Riverside has good men, one of them would have tried to help you and at that point I would have intervened anyways." Elaine met her gaze directly in the reflection. "No. I am what I am. I won't pretend to be less to make others comfortable."

  Riona studied her for a long moment before nodding. "I'm sorry. And thank you. For saving us."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Elaine nodded, studying the captain with interest.

  "Is there something else, Captain?"

  "The delegation will depart for the capital at first light," Riona said without preamble. "Master Thaddeus still wishes to extend an invitation for you to join the Royal College."

  "How convenient," Elaine replied, unable to keep a hint of irony from her tone. "Yesterday it was a demand. Today it's an invitation."

  Riona acknowledged this with a slight incline of her head. "Circumstances have changed. Your... capabilities have been demonstrated. The College would be foolish not to recognize your value—and equally foolish to believe they could compel you."

  "And if I decline?"

  "Then you decline," Riona said simply.

  "What would you do in my position, Captain?" Elaine asked.

  The question seemed to surprise Riona. She considered it carefully before answering.

  "The capital offers certain advantages," she said finally. "Resources, information, connections that might prove useful. But it also means scrutiny, politics, expectations." She met Elaine's gaze directly. "For someone like you—someone unique—I believe the capital could be either a sanctuary or a cage, depending on how you navigate it."

  "You believe I should accept the invitation."

  "I believe you should make an informed choice," Riona corrected. "While I don't know the full extent of your power, I think I know enough to realize that neither the royal college nor the crown can hope to control you."

  "The Royal College would give you legitimacy, resources, and a measure of protection—but also constraints. Refusing them means freedom but potential isolation, or worse, being hunted for abilities they don't understand and can't control. However, you have no need for protection or legitimacy and hunting you down would be… unwise. I recommend coming with us to the capital and hear what they have to say and then just go from there."

  Her candor was refreshing. "Why are you telling me this, Captain?"

  "As captain, my duty is to protect the realm," Riona replied. "And I believe winning you as an ally would be in our best interest. Personally, you saved my life and that of my men, I owe you more than gratitude—I will try to help you in any way I can." She stood, moving toward the door. "The delegation leaves at dawn. You have until then to decide."

  She paused at the threshold, adding quietly, "For what it's worth, I believe the village has made a mistake."

  The statement hung in the air between them—unexpected, unasked for, and somehow more meaningful for it.

  "Thank you, Captain," Elaine replied.

  * * *

  Dawn arrived with thin fingers of gold stretching across a pearl-gray sky. Elaine stood at Riverside's northern gate, her bag slung across her shoulder, waiting. The same gate where blood had soaked the earth just yesterday now showed no sign of the carnage—the bodies burned, the ground raked clean. Only memory marked the place as a battlefield.

  The royal delegation emerged from the inn just as the sun cleared the horizon. Thaddeus led, his silver hair gleaming in the morning light, his blue robes freshly pressed despite their travels. Edmund followed, his newly healed lungs allowing him a vigor he clearly still found novel. Garrett came last, his expression carefully neutral though his eyes darted toward Elaine with poorly concealed wariness.

  Captain Riona directed her guards with crisp efficiency, overseeing the loading of the wagon and the preparation of the horses. Unlike the others, she acknowledged Elaine with a direct nod, her manner professional if not warm.

  "We are ready to go," she announced before approaching Elaine. "What about you, are you prepared to travel?"

  "Yes," Elaine replied simply.

  The delegation began its procession out of the village. As they passed beneath the gate, Elaine turned for one final look at Riverside—the thatched roofs, the winding streets, the cottage on the edge of town that had briefly been her home. Her fingers found Sarah's pendant, tracing its smooth surface as the village receded behind them.

  "They may reconsider, in time," Riona said, noticing the gesture.

  "Perhaps," Elaine replied, facing forward once more. "But the world rarely waits for reconsideration."

  * * *

  The group established a comfortable traveling rhythm as the morning advanced. Four guards rode ahead as scouts, with Thaddeus's wagon following, flanked by two more guards. Elaine and Riona rode together behind the wagon, with the remaining guards taking up the rear. The formation was both efficient and revealing—placing Elaine where she could be most easily observed from multiple positions.

  After an hour of relative silence, Thaddeus signaled for his wagon to slow, allowing Elaine and Riona to draw alongside.

  "You'll find the College quite different from village life," Thaddeus remarked to Elaine as they ate. "Over three hundred healers in residence, from apprentices to masters. The complex itself houses not only training facilities but research laboratories, treatment wards, and the royal family's private healing chambers."

  "It sounds extensive," Elaine replied, genuinely curious about the institution she would soon join.

  "Five centuries of continuous operation," Thaddeus said with evident pride. "Founded by Queen Liora herself after the Plague Years."

  "The College maintains three main divisions," Edmund added enthusiastically. "Research and Development, where I primarily work; Clinical Practice, which handles direct treatment of patients; and Education, which trains new healers."

  "You'll likely be asked to contribute to all three," Thaddeus said. "Though where your primary responsibilities fall will depend on your particular interests and... aptitudes."

  "Assuming, of course, that the High Council approves your appointment," Garrett noted. "Even Senior Examiner Thaddeus's recommendation requires their confirmation."

  "The High Council consists of the seven most senior healers," Edmund explained. "They govern all College affairs and report directly to the Crown."

  "And they're currently rather divided on several key issues," Riona added unexpectedly. When Thaddeus gave her a sharp look, she simply shrugged. "Elaine should understand the environment she's entering."

  "What issues?" Elaine asked, sensing an opening to valuable information.

  "There are... philosophical differences regarding the College's direction," Thaddeus admitted. "Some council members favor focusing our resources on research and expanding healing capabilities. Others believe we should concentrate on practical application—treating more patients with our current methods."

  "The traditional faction versus the progressives," Edmund clarified. "Master Thaddeus generally aligns with the progressives, who seek to advance healing knowledge."

  "While Archmaster Valerian leads the traditionalists," Garrett added. "He believes healing is a gift to be used, not an art to be endlessly refined."

  "And these factions extend beyond the College," Riona noted. "The royal court has its own interests in healing resources—where they're directed, who benefits, and how they're controlled."

  Elaine absorbed this information carefully, recognizing the political landscape forming around her. "And where do you expect me to fit in this division?"

  "That," Thaddeus said with a thin smile, "will depend largely on you. Your abilities are... exceptional. Both factions will undoubtedly see potential value in your support."

  * * *

  By midday, they stopped briefly to rest the horses and take a light meal. The journey resumed shortly thereafter, the afternoon passing in relative quiet as the landscape gradually changed around them. Cultivated fields gave way to scattered woodlands, the road narrowing as it wound through increasingly hilly terrain.

  By the time the sun began its descent toward the horizon, Riona signaled for the group to begin looking for a suitable campsite. They found it just off the main road—a small clearing near a stream, sheltered by ancient oaks. The royal guards moved with practiced efficiency, establishing a perimeter before setting up the camp itself.

  As twilight deepened, a fire blazed at the center of the camp, its light creating a warm circle amid the gathering darkness. The group gathered around the flames, the day's journey having established a tentative routine.

  Elaine took the opportunity to satisfy a curiosity that had been growing since their departure.

  "What is the capital actually called?" she asked, breaking the companionable silence. "I've only ever heard it referred to as 'the capital.'"

  Riona and Garrett exchanged glances, a flicker of amusement passing between them.

  "You don't know?" Garrett asked, his tone carrying the faintest hint of superiority.

  Riona cleared her throat. "Well, it's officially Lla...fa..." she began, then frowned slightly as if trying to recall the precise pronunciation.

  "Oh come on," Garrett interrupted with exaggerated exasperation. "It's Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch," he pronounced perfectly, without hesitation or stumbling over a single syllable. "Everyone knows that."

  Elaine raised an eyebrow, studying Garrett's smug expression.

  "Yeah," Riona said dryly. "That's why it's 'the capital.'" She turned to Elaine with a conspiratorial smile. "The founder had a peculiar sense of humor and an unfortunate stutter. By the time scribes finished recording the name, they'd filled half a parchment. Official documents just said 'the capital' to save ink, and it stuck."

  "Most people can't pronounce it anyway," Edmund added from across the fire.

  "That's why we have those tongue-twister competitions during summer festivals," Riona explained. "They started as attempts to practice saying the capital's name."

  Elaine glanced between them, noting the varying degrees of amusement in their expressions. "I see," she said simply, though a faint smile touched her lips as she returned to her meal.

  Garrett maintained his proud expression for another moment before muttering into his stew, "I still say it's not that difficult to pronounce."

  The conversation continued as the fire burned lower, touching on the capital's geography, the neighboring kingdoms' relations with Aldoria, and the upcoming autumn festival. Elaine listened more than she spoke, building a mental map of the complex social and political environment she would soon enter.

  As the others gradually retired to their tents, Elaine remained by the fire, watching the embers glow against the darkness. Riona, after completing a final check of the guards' positions, joined her briefly.

  "Thinking about what awaits in the capital?" she asked.

  "Weighing my place in all this," Elaine admitted. "The College, its factions, the expectations."

  A faint smile touched Riona's lips. "Like preparing for battle."

  "In many ways, it is," Elaine replied. "Though with different weapons."

  Riona studied her for a moment. "You've faced worse than court politics, I imagine."

  "Each challenge has its own nature," Elaine said, her fingers finding Sarah's pendant again. "But yes, I've faced worse."

  The captain nodded, seeming to find something reassuring in that response. "Rest well, Healer Elaine. Dawn comes early on the road."

  Left alone with the dying fire, Elaine contemplated the path ahead. The simplicity of village life had been replaced by a complex web of factions, interests, and hidden agendas.

  Tomorrow would bring another day of travel, another step toward the capital and whatever awaited her there. For now, she would rest, reflect, and prepare—as she had done for a millennium.

  Some things, it seemed, never changed.