Silent Thoughts

Islana wanted to say to hell with protocol. Young women, girls lay dead in the sands. She wanted to speak Yither's words to Aziqul. Wanted to tell him that it was very doubtful Madaya and herself were safe just because they were here.

Yet, her words found no voice. The Pilgrimage had been tainted enough; the young witch could not bring herself to do anything that would add to the damage.

All that came from the redhead was a nod of understanding. With her walking stick in hand, Kaithak on the shoulder of her good arm, and Madaya by her side the woman followed the Priest towards the city.

Vigilance would be important. The people she hoped could be trusted amounted to very few. Still, there were some and maybe, this time, her instinct would be right.