November 4-6

Darling Karolus –

Tonight we are sharing a campfire with a traveler heading back the way we came. It is possible this letter will reach the village even before you do, so you will have it, as well as my first one, waiting upon your return. Perhaps a few days in is a little early to send a letter, but I have no idea when the next chance will come, so feel I most take advantage.

Our first few days have been rather uneventful. Dymek and I have agreed on the direction the portents are taking us, for now, though I think we both have some preconceived notions of where we will be going, and soon enough, those paths will diverge. It will be interesting to see what the portents say then, and if either of us will be able to separate ourselves enough from our own thoughts to read the signs clearly.

Aleksy and Aleksa (the mules – Nadzia insists we call them by their names) have been a great help so far, though I have been less willing than the others to let them carry everything. While Dymek is right, neither the road nor the portents show us any sign that we will lose the twins for now, I cannot help but think about what would happen to us if anything should happen to them. So I carry my own bedroll, a tarp, water and rations, and of course, my cards. I have decided that the burden of those objects is far less than the burden of uncertainty would be.

Tomorrow we head into the foothills, and I know soon I will be very grateful for Aleksy, Aleksa, and Nadzia with her careful tending of them. I just fear that in not too long, we will be heading down paths that the mules cannot travel with us, and just hope we are able to find a safe place to leave them.

While I believe we will just be passing through the foothills, on our way to the swamps, where the mules will be too heavy to travel safely, Dymek thinks we will be heading deep into the mountains proper, where the mules’ sure footedness will make the climb easier for all of us. In that way, it would be nice if he were right, and I were wrong. The geese do fly right over the mountains, but every time I track the crows, they change their path once they reach the foothills.

I know not if anyone else is writing, so I feel I must share some information about everyone for the sake of their friends and family. Emilja has so far been our willing cook. She is rather miraculous at it, spotting herbs, mushrooms, and other usable plants as we travel. With the addition of the hares and other small game Wojciech has managed to snare, we have had fresh stew every night and in the morning, and only eat our dried goods so as not to stop at lunch.

Wojciech remains young and full of high spirits. This is his first time leaving the village, and everything is exciting to him, well, everything except our slow pace. He and Nadzia bicker, but much like siblings. It is good natured, and provides some level of amusement to the rest of us.

The light of the fire is dying, and I must get some sleep. I expect that by the time I write you next, our path – the mountains or the swamps – will have been chosen, and so you will know from which direction to watch for any signs.

All my love,

Sibilia