"This is it. We're leaving Renasin." Arthur sighed. Arya turned and kept walking.
Arthur frowned. He wanted to say something; he wanted to tell her how he really felt about her. But, he stopped himself and dropped down on to the path.
"Let's go." He whispered.
Arthur raced after Arya on the well beaten path. They stayed as far away from the edge as they could. They couldn't risk being heard by the guards.
Arya slowed as the path narrowed.
"Careful." She whispered. "It's narrow here and we're passing by the guard's tower." Arthur flattened himself against the rock wall. Even so, the ends of his boots projected off of the edge.
"The path widens right here for about a foot." Arya whispered, her black silhouette moved slowly ahead of him. Arthur inched slowly forward until he reached the wide piece of path. He looked down into the rolling waves, crashing into the sharp rocks below. Suddenly, Arya grabbed his wrist. In the moon light Arthur saw her pointing up. He glanced up and saw a guard peering down, torch in hand. Arya shuffled towards him.
"Don't move." Arthur breathed. But, his request came too late. The path rumbled and fell out from beneath her feet. Arya screamed. She tried to grip something but the ledge was too slick with saltwater. Above them the guard was yelling for help.
"They know about the path. You have to go." Arya yelled. Arthur's face was red with effort.
"No. I have an advantage. The Ledge!" Arthur yelled. "I can't let you go." Arya's face was sad.
"You're going to have to." Arya cried. " Just let me go. Let me go, Arthur!" The sound of soldiers was fast approaching.
"No!" Arthur roared.
"Let me go!" She screamed. Her face was wet with tears. Arthur looked helplessly at her.
"I love you." Then Arthur let her go. Arya plummeted through the air and crashed into the sea.
"Arya!" He wailed. Arthur pulled out his sword tempted to kill himself. No, I must avenge her, he thought, I must get to the Prince. Arthur raced as fast as he could down the path, and waiting for him at the end were a dozen soldiers. Arthur raised his sword and charged into them head on.
Arthur ripped through them one after another. His anger and fury was driving him mad. Six of them surrounded him. Arthur yelled and swung his sword around wildly. Two fell to the ground; before they could fill the gap Arthur was gone.
Arthur crashed through the forest; unaware of where he was going. Before the edge of a narrow strip of beach and the banks of a shallow river, Arthur fell to the ground and sobbed his way to sleep. For three nights and 3 days Arthur stayed in that position. On the forth night he dreamed.
He was laying on a bed of silver. A beautiful white room, with strips of gold portraying beautiful pictures on the walls, surrounded him. He lifted his hand, he was now wearing a simple, white tunic. A door in front of him opened and Arya glided in. Her white dress flowed around her; just as her hair drifted around her face. Her velvet-brown eyes seemed loving and less intense. She bent down and kissed Arthur's cheek. With out warning she jumped back. Her eyes flared.
"You could have saved me." She yelled." You could have saved me!" She turned and fled the room.
Arthur woke up screaming. He felt stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground. Arthur sat up and looked around at his surroundings. Slowly he came to his senses. Behind him he became aware of a fire and the smell of meat.
"Who's Arya?" A voice asked. Arthur jumped up reaching for his sword, but finding nothing. He spun around. There, feet away, sat a girl, probably no older than seventeen, tending a fire. She wore a green dress, under a rumpled cloak; her black, curly hair was pulled back in a bun. For a second Arthur almost mistook her for Arya. "Who's Arya?" She asked again.
"Give me my sword." Arthur demanded, holding out his hand.
"Fine, but only if you tell me who Arya is... after we eat." The girl grabbed his sheath and tossed it to him. Arthur caught it and strapped it to his side. "Sit." The girl said. Arthur sat down on a fallen log as the girl pulled a cooked rabbit off the spit. She divided it out onto two small plates and handed one to him.
"Thank you,....." Arthur trailed off. The girl smiled.
"I am Owlynn Tiskara of Moningham. You are welcome,....." Her voice faded. Arthur took a bite of rabbit.
"Arthur." He said.
"Who's Arya?" She asked while polishing off her rabbit. Arthur looked at her, then looked down as his eyes teared up.
"How do you know about Arya?" He asked. Owlynn's eyebrows furrowed, her mind locked in hard thought. She wondered if she should speak about it. He looked like he was in a lot of pain.
" You screamed her name when you dreamed." Owlynn replied. Tears fell from his face into the rabbit.
"She was my friend." He whispered. "She was my friend and I killed her." His voice got louder. Owlynn gasped. "She died and I could have saved her. She died because she didn't let me help her!" Tears streamed down his face. "She was my friend and I killed her!" He screamed. Owlynn watched horrified. His shaking body fell to the ground. Owlynn removed the plate of rabbit and unclipped her cloak. She placed it around his heaving shoulders.
"I'm going to go and get water. Stay here, everything will be fine." Owlynn wasn't sure if he understood, but she left anyway. As she neared the river nearly fifty feet from the river, she could still hear Arthur's sobs. Owlynn bent down and began filling her waterskin. She screwed on the cap and stood. There was a loud coughing from the other side of the bank and Owlynn saw either a soaking wet man with very long hair or a girl. Should I call out? Owlynn opened her mouth just as two uniformed men came riding. Owlynn backed into the shadows of the trees and watched.
One of the asked something that Owlynn couldn't make out. The wet person only coughed and threw up on the man's armor.
"Arrest her!" He commanded. The other soldier rode beside the person he pulled out his sword. The person didn't try running; she was either to weak or to sick. The commanded solider hit the person on the head and they fell to the ground. The commanded soldier dismounted and lifted her onto his saddle.
Owlynn ran back to the camp. Arthur had sat up and was finishing his rabbit. Owlynn gave him the water and sat down. A number of thoughts ran through her head. Could that be Arya? It depends on how she died. Should I tell him? Yes, of course. How should I tell him? Oh! I know, I'll describe the person. Arthur looked at her.
"Thanks for the water." He said.
"Yes, of course." She smiled. Owlynn looked down. "Look there's something I should tell you. Down at the river I saw someone get arrested by the King's men. The person had dark hair, wore pants, no cloak, had a sword, and was half drowned." Owlynn looked up to see Arthur staring at her.
"Arya." He whispered.
