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"Are you certain about this?" Damian asked from inside the room no larger than a privy.

"Appearance isn't everything," Garrick's voice came from outside the door, "but it's all that most people will see of you. If you look confident, intelligent, and strong-willed, people will think that you are." Damian still felt unsure, but she finished regardless. Finally, she opened the door and stepped out.

Her faded sundress had been replaced by an ankle-length gown the color of red wine with white scrollwork around the collar and hem. The high collar curved down from her neck under her arms and below her shoulder blades in the back, exposing her shoulders. The skirt billowed down around her with a copious amount of fabric. She could sit a horse comfortably in the dress, she noticed. Her arms were covered with long, lilac-colored gloves open at the hands but for a strip of cloth that went down from her wrist to circle her middle finger. A ribbon of a similar color tied her long, deep blue hair together halfway down her back. Her boots, faded, scuffed, and mud-stained as they were, remained the same.

The clerks of the store murmured admiringly as she examined herself in a tall mirror beside the changing room. Garrick grinned and nodded in approval. The attention made her uneasy at first, but as she continued gazing at her reflection, their words began to warm her heart. The dress did give her an air of pride and strength and she liked the way it hugged her soft curves. She felt more intimidating and more beautiful at once.

"It suits you," Garrick remarked. She turned to smile shyly at him, but her eyes dropped as he held another garment out to her. Taking it from his arms, she let the material flow down to the floor. It was a cloak of dark purple with a lining of lavender. She swept it around her shoulders. It was heavy and warm with a large hood, but with the sides pushed back and the hood down, it was airy enough to wear in almost any weather.

"That suits you, too," he added, smiling.

"Are you sure about this?" Damian asked again. Garrick waved his hand, brushing aside the question.

"Money is one thing I have no shortage of," he stated. "You need new clothes more than I need another cup." Damian tried to argue further, or at least offer to pay him back with the coin he had taken from her attackers the last night, but he persistently refused. He paid the shopkeeps and they walked out.

"We'll need to get you a coin pouch," he commented. "There's bound to be a tanner somewhere around here."

"You're really too kind," she insisted, feeling guilty and slightly nervous with the way he was dropping money on her so quickly. He only smiled in response.

"It's just what I do."

She began to understand more about his nature while he lead her through the town. Many people recognized him and greeted him enthusiastically and he made a few more friends along the way as well. Damian was respected simply for being his companion and she caught a number of winks or envious smiles from women who saw her walking alongside him. He jested with men, flirted with women, and gave money and blessings freely to those who asked for them. She still felt that he was favoring her for some reason, but his generosity was easier to accept when she realized that he was generous with all who would smile for him.

It never ceased to amaze Damian how crowded the streets seemed to be, and there never were fewer than four horse-drawn wagons or carriages traveling the road they walked down. She began to wonder about the vast numbers of people filling the town.

"What day is it?" she asked Garrick.

"Eran," he answered with a smile over his shoulder. Eran's Day, she thought. Still four days until the weekly market, and even with spring crops beginning to roll in, it seemed unusual that the town was so busy.

"What week is it?" she inquired. His grin widened.

"The fifth week of spring," he replied. Damian's eyes widened.

"You mean..." she attempted. He nodded.

"That's right," he stated. "Relhan is next week." Damian realized she shouldn't have been surprised. Her father always began his trade routes in Trent during the new-year's festival and he had been preparing to leave when Aether was attacked. "It's six days long this year," Garrick added. A lucky year, Damian thought morosely. Four seasons of ten weeks of eight days each and the remaining five or six days comprised the kingdom-wide celebration of rebirth, but her year was beginning with the death of her only family and the destruction of her whole way of life. Was the 'lucky year' that determined the festival's length dictated by the gods or only by the astronomers?

"Have you ever been in Trent during Relhan?" Garrick asked.

"A dozen times that I can remember," she responded dully.

"Oh?" he wondered, arching his eyebrows. "Then you must know the best places to celebrate."

"No," she told and shook her head. "My father came here first on his trade routes, but he was always so busy during the festival that I didn't get to do much. I've been to Plaza Medalia and we always watched the last night fireworks, but that's it."

"That's it?" he stated incredulously. "You mean you've been here for every Relhan of the past twelve years and you've never seen the Genesis Fountain or the Tower of Kings or Wyshied Hall? The street of lights or the music festival?" Damian shook her head, her eyes on the sidewalk in front of her. She didn't care for landmarks, sightseeing, or celebration and Relhan meant nothing to her without her father. She would sooner never see anything new of Trent and stand beside her father's cart all day throughout the festival to have him back. Every year, they would share a butter cream cake from the same bakery as they watched the night sky come alive with color and talk for hours on end. She had always looked forward to that night as much as any other part of the long journey and now she would never get to experience it again. She felt tears welling up beneath her eyes.

"The tanner can wait," Garrick remarked. Damian glanced at him and the knowing smile he sent her. "I want to show you something." At that moment, all Damian wanted to do was find her room at the inn again and cry herself to sleep, but she felt too weary to argue and simply followed him.

She was glad that Garrick continued conversing with passers-by and other townspeople, for she didn't want to talk. They walked for many blocks, taking a number of turns and back routes through alleys that Damian didn't recognize. She wondered if she would even remember the huge market square where her father had sold Aether's wares year after year. The square would look empty this year without his stand. Perhaps she should tell Caleb Brown, the large, jovial man who organized the annual market, what had happened, but it seemed too much effort for her. Surely there had been enough news of the attack for him to have guessed what happened to Clyde.

Dinnertime was almost over when they came upon a long, high wall of solid stone. Damian gazed at it as they approached the open gates. Statues of fantastic creatures perched atop the wall, hippocampus and chimera, unicorn and cockatrice. Climbing roses hung over the top of the wall between the statues, but the face of the rock itself was smooth. She wondered where Garrick was taking her. An ornate iron sign arched over the gated entrance, but she couldn't read the words coming from the side. Soon, they arrived at the gates, and when Damian stepped through, she gasped.

Inside was the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. Cherry trees blanketed in flowers ran down the stone path they traveled in as perfect a formation as a squadron of knights, raining white, pink, and fuschia petals onto the ground as delicately as snowflakes. Arrangements of knee-high tulips and daffodils, mums, snapdragons, geraniums, and blue hydrangea lined the path. Beyond the cherry blossoms was perfectly tended grass that looked soft as silk and huge green oak, maple, elm, and ash trees spread their long branches high up into the sky. Brightly colored butterflies fluttered about the myriad of flowers. The air was filled with the songs of cardinals, blue jays, yellow finches, warblers, fishers, mockingbirds, and blackbirds gliding between trees. Red squirrels darted across the grounds and chattered their excitement to the world and a few brown rabbits munched on the green grass beneath the trees.

As her eyes traveled around the blooming garden, Damian found children chasing each other through the trees and underneath the lowest branches of a tall blue spruce. Young couples and old friends strolled through the park or sat on the grass, picnicking, chatting, or playing chess or cards. Geese, swans, and peacocks meandered around the garden or sat on the grass, their long necks watching the people enjoying the sunny spring day. It felt as if Damian had stepped into another world and she could hardly believe she was in the same town that had seemed so dirty and greedy since she arrived.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Garrick remarked as he walked slowly beside her.

"It's astounding," she breathed.

"This is Graeme's Arbor, named for Graeme Johannis, the third Duke of Lamant," he told as they moved past dahlias, marigolds, and petunias. "It's said that an architect picked this location to build him a new manor, but when he came here, he was so captivated by its beauty that he decreed it should be enjoyed by everyone. He had this park built from his own treasury and a portion of Trent's taxes go to maintaining it." Damian hardly heard him as she looked around, drinking in the vibrant colors, happy songs of birds and children, and sweet scents filling the air.

"I had no idea there was any such place in Trent," she commented.

"Most people don't," Garrick explained with a grin. "At least half the town doesn't even know about this place. Otherwise, I'm sure it wouldn't be so pleasant." Damian was still pondering that when a young girl with a tangle of golden curls and a sky blue dress ran laughing out from beneath the long branches of a weeping willow.

"Here you go, miss," she offered breathlessly. The girl held up a wreath made of cherry blossoms with a few lilies woven into it. Damian gazed at it a moment, then slowly took it, giving the girl an inquisitive look. "It's for your head." Damian glanced at Garrick, but he only smiled. Carefully, she lifted the wreath and set it atop her head. The girl beamed.

"Now you're a queen!" she exclaimed and raced off, giggling. Damian held out a hand, but the girl was gone before she could utter a word.

"I didn't get to say thank you," she remarked. Garrick only chuckled in response.

When Damian looked to him, he cocked his head aside, considering the ring of flowers circling her brow. He laughed. "You could be a queen." Damian felt her heart grow lighter by the moment, though she still felt she was in a dream. They began walking down the path again.

"I can hardly believe there's a place so beautiful here in the middle of town," she stated.

"Damian, what you've seen so far is only a shadow of the real Trent," he responded.

They walked on in silence as the world blossomed around them. Their path crossed others and they passed other people strolling through the park who greeted them cheerily. They met a harpist who sat on the edge of the path practicing his songs, to whom Garrick gave a half-moon from his pouch to commend his playing. They found a fountain with a pink granite statue of the fabled Casimir, the beautiful queen whose voice was told to have ended a war. Leaving the path, they crossed the grounds and approached a more forested part of the garden where a creek tumbled over stones with a soft gurgling sound. At the top of the small waterfall was a grove of trees that gave them a perfect view of much of the Arbor. Damian's mind wandered, her earlier grief forgotten. Her thoughts ran so quickly that she could hardly focus, but every time she gazed at the dragon knight, one topic remained firmly in her mind.

After sitting quietly for a while, she gathered her courage and asked, "Will you tell me about magic?" The knight grinned.

"Magic is in all of us," he began as he tossed pebbles into the creek. "Every last person. There isn't much in most people, though, and humans don't have enough innate magic energy to evoke it on their own. So, mages use magic by forging a deep, spiritual bond with a creature that does have enough magic on its own. Not every inherently magical creature will be a magus, of course, but there are plenty of willing ones."

"How many different... magus are there?" she asked awkwardly. His amused green eyes looked at her.

"More than I can count," he answered. "There are different ways of using magic, too. Some mages, called conjurors, don't create any bond, but they don't get to use a magus' magic themselves. They only summon a magus to use its power for them. It's the same with enchanters, who implant a magus' magic into a certain item that they can use at will." Damian recalled Domino's bloodstone pendant and the spell he had cast with it when they fled from the humanlike creatures that attacked Aether. Could he use magic, too?

"So, what's the difference between those and sorcerors?" she wondered.

"Sorcery involves creating such a close bond with a magus that you can use their natural magic at will," he explained. "It's a lot more powerful and lot more dangerous."

"Dangerous?" she echoed, afraid.

"As much to the sorceror as to anyone else," Garrick stated. "It takes a lot of practice and training to be able to successfully forge a spirit bond and a lot of things can go wrong in the attempt. Many sorcerors in training don't survive their attempted spirit bond." Damian's eyes widened, shocked. "But I guess you're not technically a sorceress, are you?" he added.

"I guess not," Damian realized. "But you can cast magic that way?" He grinned.

"Agaesi magic works in a different way," he replied. "It's rumored that we can cast magic like any normal sorceror, but nobody has successfully pulled it off. Or at least lived to tell about it." Damian's eyes enlarged again.

"Maybe that's why my father discouraged my magic use so much," she mused. "Because it was dangerous for me, instead of others."

"Make no mistake, magic can be extremely dangerous if used properly in the wrong hands," he clarified. "Like I said, it's a tool and any tool can be deadly. But you're a special case." He examined her a moment. "And I think there's something your father was keeping secret from you."

"What?" she uttered.

"There had to have been some reason for him to be so vehemently opposed to your magic use," he remarked. "Especially since you can cast it on your own. Did he ever ask anyone about it or take you to see someone?" Damian shook her head faintly.

"He never told anyone," she stated.

"What about your mother?" Damian looked away uncomfortably.

"She died at my birth," she responded quietly. "My... my father always told me it was magic that killed her." Garrick fell silent for a brief moment.

"And he never told you anything else about that?" he asked gently. She shook her head.

"He told me a lot about her," she offered, "but he never said anything else about my birth, or mentioned magic. Never except that it killed her." Garrick frowned in thought and averted his eyes to the creek he sat beside. Damian felt uneasy as she sat pondering her inexplicable ability. The more she learned about magic, the stranger she seemed. Had her father always kept some secret about her birth from her? She had always wondered just how a magic spell was involved in birthing her. It hurt to think that her father might have lied to her all through her life. She played with the folds of her skirt distractedly, trying to make connections in her mind but failing to do so.

After a long moment, Garrick stood, smiling once again, and brushed the grass off his trousers. "Well," he stated, "how about we go visit Plaza Medalia? I know a fantastic pub on the way where we could have lunch." Damian wondered briefly about him. The term 'lunch' was not commonly used in this part of the kingdom and she had mostly heard it used in western and northern Faneria. It occurred to her at that moment that she still knew little about him and suddenly, she felt uncomfortable with how casual she had been in his company. Still, he had proven a loyal companion and well knowledged, and she needed both at this time, so she stood and followed him back to the path and out of Graeme's Arbor.

Her feelings only escalated as they returned to the streets of Trent. It was not a friend she walked beside, it was a stranger. She still felt lost, alone, and very small, though at least if she put on a mask of confidence and strong will, people did seem to give way to her more than they did when she wore her old sundress. She tried to take comfort in the new clothes and what they had given her, but it was faint consolation at best.

The knight hadn't been exaggerating when he told her about the tavern. The herbed duck she ate was juicier and more flavorful than any meat she had ever tasted. It was accented with equally impressive garlic mashed new potatoes, fire-roasted carrots with blanched almonds, and soft, warm bread with butter. The meal was served with a goblet of light honeyed wine as smooth and cool as milk, and for dessert she was presented a mixture of fresh berries with a dollop of cream in a pastry crust. The meal was easily one of the best she had eaten.

Throughout the meal, she thought about her companion and those she'd had in the past. Inevitably, her thoughts lead back to Domino, and back to his imprisonment. Her mind toiled over his arrest through her meal and she could hardly believe it had only happened the last night, less than a day ago.

"What's on your mind?" Garrick asked suddenly while she was toying with the pastry with her knife. She looked up with a start, then felt her cheeks grow warm. It was the perfect opportunity to broach the subject, but she felt nervous about it.

After a few attempts at an answer, she stated, "I... I was just wondering... could you... I mean..." She paused, considering how to phrase her question. "My friend was arrested yesterday when we came into town. Is there anything you could do to help him? Please?" Garrick lowered his mug of ale, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Arrested?" he stated. "What for?"

"I don't know," Damian answered helplessly. "These people just crowded around us and they were accusing him of causing the attack on Aether, but he didn't do it!" The knight blinked curiously.

"What made them think he had anything to do with it?" he wondered.

"I don't know," she repeated. "He has this enchanted amulet that they said was evil, but it was what let us escape. We never would have made it otherwise." Garrick's eyes shot open and he set his mug on the table.

"Wait a minute," he cut in. "You're not talking about the mercenary Domino, are you?" Damian met his eyes, surprised.

"Yes!" she agreed.

"Stay away from him, Damian," he remarked. "That guy's better off in prison." She felt the room grow cold.

"Why?" she uttered. "What has he done?"

"Don't you know who he is?" When Damian only shook her head, he continued, "He's the guy who took down the Red Hawks."

It took Damian a moment to place the name. "The soldier group?" Garrick nodded.

"Vigilante, to be precise," he clarified. "They didn't belong to any kingdom."

"But what do you mean 'took down'?" Garrick took a sip of ale before answering.

"They've been gone for a few years now," he commented. "Word was it they did the right thing. Turns out that wasn't the case, though nobody learned that until after your friend left them, killing several of them as he did. Most of the remaining members were arrested as criminals. Domino, however, managed to escape and nobody's challenged him since." Damian's eyes widened, shocked. She recalled the tales she had been told of the Red Hawks. They had grown popular for taking on common people to give them the chance to raise their status and had been known to uncover devious plots by greedy lords to usurp hard-working peasants. It was told that they fought for justice and were greatly respected by nobles, freemen, and serfs alike. She was almost as surprised to find that they weren't as honorable as their reputation lead her to believe as she was that the man she had grown attached to since she escaped Aether had a direct hand in their downfall.

"But," she attempted, "if they were doing bad things, then..."

"They were his partners," Garrick emphasized. "He killed them while they were sleeping and unarmed, never even gave them a chance to argue. That's not someone who can be trusted."

"He saved my life!" Damian insisted. "He protected me and took care of me! I never would have made it here if it wasn't for him!"

"Why did he do that?" he asked. Damian fell silent, despairing. "People can have different reasons for helping someone else. How much do you actually know about him?"

"I know he was kinder to me than anyone has been to me in years," she snapped, tears welling in her eyes.

"Damian," Garrick stated seriously. "Do you know what the most dangerous type of person is?" Reluctantly, she shook her head. "Someone whose intentions you don't know. An evil heart you can count on doing bad things, but when you don't know what someone lives or fights for, he could get to know you and gain your trust and later betray you in the worst way when you don't see it coming." Damian's hands shook and she wanted to shout back at the knight, but she knew there was no logic in her trust in Domino. No way she could convince him of Domino's kindness, and in truth, she didn't have any reason to trust him. "Nobody knows what that guy's after. Since the Red Hawks disbanded, he's hardly spoken to anyone and he's rarely seen in public. He's just wandered the countryside, doing the gods only know what. I don't see any reason why he should have helped you, which makes me wonder why he did. Maybe he thought there was something in it for him. Maybe he meant to hurt you or sell you to a slaver, or worse, to a brothel." He took another sip. "Maybe the people here were right about him." Damian looked down at her half-eaten dessert, forgotten. She desperately fought the tears from breaking free of her eyes. She didn't want this stranger seeing her crying for a friend he couldn't understand. Some part of her tried to agree that Garrick was right, but she couldn't accept that the man that had given her light when she was engulfed by darkness was vile.

"Damian?" Garrick asked softly. She trembled, but pushed away the caged-in feeling that threatened to tear her apart.

Setting her shoulders back, she commented, "I... didn't know that about Domino. It comes as a surprise to me." She didn't look at him. "Can you take me back to the inn, please? I'm afraid my dinner has made me sleepy." Without a word, Garrick downed the rest of his ale in one gulp and stood, setting a few coins on the table. Damian followed him out and said nothing as he lead her through the streets of Trent once more. She kept her eyes on the sidewalk before her and tried her hardest to ignore everything else. Her heart ached with the tears she wanted to shed, but she wouldn't cry here. Not where anyone could see her.

It was an agonizingly long walk back to the inn, though this time she made certain to at least look at the wooden sign hanging over its door, upon which was painted a yawning bear. She tried to retreat hurriedly inside, but Garrick's hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Damian," he began. She averted her eyes as he turned to stand directly in front of her. "I'm sorry. I know this must be really hard for you." You have no idea, she thought bitterly, though she remained silent. "It'll be okay. I will do anything I can to help you." She tried to meet his eyes, but couldn't quite make it.

"Thank you," she uttered unconvincingly. He let go of her and she quickly moved toward the door of the inn, but paused with her hand on the knob. After a moment of hesitation, she forced herself to turn and look into his eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile. Damian sighed.

"I'm sorry," she stated sincerely. The words did not come out easily, but remembering her lost opportunities, she made herself say them. "I just... I feel so lost." Garrick's smile widened slightly.

"I'll help you find your way," he offered.

"Thank you," she replied. "Thank you for everything you did for me today, and last night." The smile grew warmer still.

"Happy to help," he responded. "You take it easy." With that, he turned and began walking away. Damian didn't wait to see him disappear into the crowd and opened the door.