"North of the 5th street, third house on the left. The balcony has a well-trimmed curtain of ivy hanging from beneath." Shiloh muttered the directions to herself, after rereading the note she had written. So far her long-distance delivery work had been a nice supplement to her more risky requests, though eventually once she had enough of a financial buffer she planned on relying on the latter in the future. The amount of time and effort put into a single trip was more than catching cut-purses and escort missions combined. Besides, it wasn't like she had gained much of a reputation. That was one of the downsides of preferring a low profile. She had no intentions of opening a large-scale delivery service.

While she traveled from Adeluna she repeated the words like a mantra in her mind. This was her first time in Egjora, and she knew little about the Duchy. It was a strong naval power based on its location, and had enough natural resources to hold its own should a siege occur. Being an island gave those kind of advantages. After being ferried across the channel, she arrived on the shores of the place and set to work finding the address. Passing through the docks, she saw many galleons and caravels bearing goods from both continents, while dock workers tirelessly performed their duties. Entering the lower districts, she saw many houses built side by side along the streets, but they were in far better shape than the ones in Vilpamolan. For once she saw that the pavement and curbside actually felt clean. It was no flagstone cobble road, however it did look like it was swept and washed daily. Not even Adeluna's streets were like that. The Duchy really was something else.

Among the few things that she found herself unaccustomed to were the overt friendliness and polite courtesy of the locals. In most places with law and order, the people were typically decent individuals, however Egjora took it a step further. She did her best to crack a smile and nod when they greeted her and quickly went on her way. She wasn't the kind to smile much, and she couldn't help but feel out of place among the locals. Once out of the lower districts, she was now in the aristocratic quarter of the city. Mulling the directions again over in her mind, she asked a passerby where the fifth street was and she kindly obliged. Shiloh thanked her before she left, and briskly walked down the avenue of houses. It seemed the houses became larger and grander the further she ventured in, and soon the houses became mansions. After doubling back and retracing her steps she found the location, matching her note's description.

Taking a deep breath, she put on her most 'cheerful' expression and knocked on the door. A bespectacled man with greying hair answered, adjusting his glasses to see who was on his doorstep. "Hello? And may I ask whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?" Shiloh produced the package wrapped tightly in twine and brown paper. "Mr. Amsel Brahms? I'm here to deliver a package. I believe this is for you." She fished out the signed writ she had asked for before accepting the job, and placed it atop the parcel. Mr. Brahms took it in his hands and held up the paper to read what was written on it. "Oh yes, I remember now. This is the set of optic lenses I specially ordered. You must've come a long way to bring this to me." 

"Not at all, Egjora's not too far away from Adeluna. Crossing such a distance is nothing compared to the Ancense Mountains." She said so without exaggeration. She had tried to take a shortcut to Vilpamolan through the mountain range, but had to turn back when the climb became too steep. Unless you were a mountain goat or a bird, there was no way you'd get up the sheer side of the rock face. Mr. Brahms nodded in agreement. "Indeed! Would you like to come inside? You must be tired from your journey." Shiloh shook her head. "Thank you sir, but I must be on my way. I have places to be and other requests to fulfill." She tried her best not to offend the elderly man's feelings. As hospitable his offer was, it didn't seem right to impose on someone. She was just handing in a package; soon she would need to travel back to Adeluna to see what other business she had waiting for her.

As she was leaving, Mr. Brahms waved and smiled. She did so in turn, when for split second she thought she saw something. In that brief moment, an image of a younger Mr. Brahms was superimposed over him, with eyes moist and tears running down his face. The visage of sorrow vanished back into the elderly man she had seen moments before. Upon leaving the upper district, Shiloh rubbed her eyes. What had she just seen? It must have been a trick of the eye, some kind of distortion brought on by weariness. It was strange, so she did not give it any further thought. Returning to the docks, she learned that the ferries had been stopped for the day as a strong storm was reported to pass by the coast within the next few days. All the trade ships anchored here were staying put, waiting to set sail once it was over. That left her stuck here until then, and any plans she had made in Adeluna would have to be pushed back. Not an enjoyable setback, but there was nothing she could do about it.

Not wanting to spend her coin renting a room in the city, she set up camp in the woods and set up shelter for the night. A simple campfire and some boiled water was all she needed to start a simple meal as she cooked some produce bought from the local market. Using a spell to create bread and some cooked meat, so concluded her supper for the night. She still had no idea how she came to know how to do this, but after long term observation of its usage she learned that it would always provide what she needed without fail. The quantity was always enough for herself, no more and no less. She had tried this with other things, but it only seemed to work with food. In all attempts she had never gotten food poisoning, so it was definitely safer than attempting to make a meal out of whatever she could find in a foreign area.

Putting out the fire and stomping out any remaining embers, she found herself a large tree and settled into the crook of its branches.

The next morning she heard the sound of footsteps below the branches. Out of instinct she held her breath and stayed still. In the morning silence, she saw a small group of armored men bringing a bound man deeper into the woodland as they passed by the tree she was in. She couldn't see their faces, but with one look she knew the man's hands were tied. The soldiers were also carrying some other things but she couldn't tell what they were for. Something about the procession made her feel uneasy.

Once the sound of clanking armor was long gone, she climbed down and reclaimed her knapsack which she had wisely hidden in the bushes. It was a good thing she had covered up her fire the night before. Who knew what would happen if they had discovered her? She knew it was wrong to always assume the worst when law enforcement was concerned, but her past experiences with them had given her a strong bias. Of course it wasn't that there weren't any truly honorable righteous ones, but all too often the bad ones soured the entire group's reputation. With nothing better to do, she left the forest to comb the beach. Passing by the docks again, she saw teams of workers doing routine maintenance and cleaning. They were all supervised by a guard, which didn't seem out of the ordinary. She watched them check the piers for structural wear and scraped barnacles off the posts, pulling floating seaweed and detritus out of the waters in nets. Nothing unusual, and she continued to search for a nice secluded beach. As she turned away, the corner of her eye saw one of the dock workers was missing a left hand.

The white sand crunched beneath her boots as she walked along the shore, watching the waves move in and out. Seabirds squawked in the distance, circling over the water. The breeze was stronger today, and she could almost taste the salt spray from the water crashing against the rocks. There were white clouds on the horizon, but not enough to consider for a storm. The weather was often fickle and changed at a moment's notice, especially on the sea. The beaches here mostly had overgrown rocks with mussels than seashells, with the occasional sea grass bulb floating on the tide. When she knelt close to the wet sand she spied small holes which bubbled when water ran over them, revealing the presence of sand crabs beneath. She left them alone and found a dry rock to sit upon. This was the first time she had seen a beach untouched by the hands of people. Marhaven was a coastal city, but most of the shoreline had been rocky high cliffs which lowered into basalt stone nearing the harbor. For once there was a coast that didn't smell of brine and dead fish. Grabbing a bunch of grass growing on the soil, she swept the sand off her boots before taking them off. Shaking out some pebbles, she felt a sense of calm here. Soon the market would be open and it would be time to make breakfast. 

The afternoon was spent walking the city streets and looking at the buildings. Sometimes she'd find a spot and sit, watching those who went by. It was a pastime of hers, when she didn't feel like doing anything else. There were housewives hurrying home following afternoon tea, clerks returning to their offices from lunch hour, and gentlemen hailing carriages to places unknown. The general atmosphere was upbeat and friendly, but in a way it felt constrained. Like it was a routine thing. As cheerful as the banter between locals was, it stopped short of being truly carefree. All the more reason to keep to herself. It made her feel awkward. 

Her thoughts began to wander as she watched the people go about their business. What were they like? Where were they going? One man in particular a caught her attention. He was dressed in tasteful, formal clothing with black leather shoes and a silver-headed cane. The shoes must have been new, or at least were shined every day. The leather wasn't stiff like her boots, but appeared soft and pliable. As he greeted an older gentleman, a scene flashed before her eyes. There was a mansion with climbing vines blooming red, with white shuttered windows. In one of the windows she saw a woman, dressed in a fine gown and jewels looking out from within. Her eyes were downcast and melancholy, and she moved a hand uncovering her wrist. There were faint marks of red, as if from a burn or abrasion. The sound of a door opening made her sit up straight in fright and then it dissipated. Shiloh blinked several times, rubbing her eyes. There it was again, the same thing that happened when she made her delivery. Something was wrong with her eyes, she was sure of it. She was seeing things that clearly weren't there. Moving from her spot she went to browse the lower districts and check if the ferries were open again.

'Closed'. The letters on the wooden sign bore its message clearly, with no room for dispute. It was frustrating to know she couldn't leave, but what was even worse was not being able to do anything about it. The waves were strong and the currents were swift, so attempting to cross the channel was not an option. It was time to retreat back into the woodlands again. Unlike the city, the forest felt more welcoming to her over the past days. The place was verdant and strong, though not in the same way as the Virens. The plants here were a stalwart green in contrast to the Virens' ruddy red. It was almost stubborn, persistent in a way. Whenever being around people became too much, she always returned to the woods. That was how she had lived back home. Maybe that was why she was so drawn to this area; it brought back memories from her youth. Walking past the towering oaks and other trees, it felt like she would run into her adoptive family at any moment. Every time she stumbled into a clearing, she half-expected to see the familiar shape of the mother mountain troll or one of her sons or an impish sprite lounging about lazily upon a toadstool. Each time she did, she was met with disappointment.

She had not paid attention to where she had wandered, and suddenly jerked forward to grab onto the trunk of a tree as she carelessly tripped over a concealed root. It was then when she looked up and felt the blood drain from her face. A pair of feet dangled before her very eyes. Her gaze traveled upward, and saw it was the body of a man hanging from his neck. A prickling sensation broke out on her skin as she quickly backed away from the corpse. Her attention was then drawn to the partially covered tracks of heavy boots having come through this area. They ended at the hanged man and did not continue further. Shiloh felt a lump form in her throat as she recalled the armored men she had seen earlier that morning.

Soon she was running back through the woods jumping over bushes, rocks, and logs. She had seen something that she wasn't meant to see, and not because it was an execution. She had wondered how the duchy had kept its streets from turning lawless like others. But she had never expected to discover the answer. When she was far enough away from the scene of the hanging, she leaned back against the trunk of a wide oak and breathed slowly. She had seen executions and hangings before. She had even been sent to the gallows on several occasions only to escape again. But something about the sight of that man's corpse felt extremely, and terribly wrong. That man's face did not look like the face of a criminal. His clothes were nothing special, and looked like the garb of an everyday law-abiding citizen. Why had he been sentenced to death out here in the wilderness? Too many things didn't make sense. Typically when criminals were punished they were given a trial in court, at least to confirm the accused's crimes. And executions were normally made public to act as a warning to the rest of the populace. But according to her knowledge, none of these things had been done. For all she knew they simply arrested the man and marched him out to the woods, then left him hanging until they decided to cut down the body.

The entire thought process sent chills throughout her body, and she hadn't felt deathly afraid of setting foot a city in a long, long time. At any moment, she could be taken away for any kind of offense. The only thing worse than a lawless place was a place where the law did not protect its people. She had to get off this island immediately.