"C'mon. Wake up." Gillian shook Ryia awake. "We've got to get going."

Ryia blinked and scrunched her nose as she rubbed her eyes. "I'm not feeling so well." she collapsed against his side.

"Oh no." Gillian muttered. "We don't need this."

She felt a cold hand on her burning forehead. "Yep, you aren't very well." Gillian picked her up, carried her to Red and set her on top of him. "Can you sit for me? Just for a minute."

She sluggishly nodded and sat wobbly on Red for a moment while Gillian hopped on top of Red and held Ryia close to his chest, keeping her from falling off of Red.

Keep her from getting worse. he prayed. They had a better chance of getting captured with her being sick. Especially if she's retching. Gillian wrinkled his nose. He couldn't stand sick people. He couldn't stand getting sick. He didn't believe in getting sick. Getting sick is for weak people. And Ryia is weak.

It wasn't her fault she got sick. She was just a naturally weak character. And weak character makes you more susceptible to illnesses.

Red slowly trotted through the dense trees, the defused light making it difficult for Gillian to decided which way was north and which way was south.

He finally came to a clearing where he saw the sun clear to his right. "So I should be heading in the right direction." he mused.

Ryia moaned something about, "raiders, mother, and illness".

Gillian felt her forehead again. "Worse than before." his mouth twitch. "Great, just great." he unscrewed his water canteen and let some water drip into her mouth. Inevitably some dripped down the side of her face and onto Gillian's shirt. Gillian grumbled something under his breath. "Did she have to get sick? Couldn't she have waited till Carenthia?" he sighed.

Ryia shivered.

Apparently not. he frowned and kept riding south. Please send help. I can't continue riding with her limp body. And I don't have the materials to take care of a sick person. Please, I need help.

"Dearie?" Mrs. Jolly called to her husband. "Mr. Markus Jolly get in here right now!"

"Yes, Love?" he called back to his wife. "What is it you need?"

"I have a bad feeling." she yelled.

"About what?" he opened their front door and got closer to his wife so he could hear her better.

"I just think we should make an extra chicken." she looked down at the simmering pot of chicken broth.

Mr. Jolly scoffed. "I think that's your stomach talking."

"Markus, go get me another chicken!" she spanked his backside and sent him back outside.

"Tubby woman never gets enough to eat." he mumbled as he entered the chicken coop. "Come Chubby Chick! Mrs. Jolly wants another chicken to eat!" he grabbed Chubby Chick and quickly tied up the wings, layed the chicken's neck on a stump, took his ax and whacked off the head.

He took Chubby Chick into the house. "Here you are Mrs. Jolly." he handed his wife the chicken.

"Well you need to get the feathers out!" she rolled her eyes and shooed Mr. Jolly outside again.

"Well that's your job!" Mr. Jolly tossed the chicken into the kitchen.

Mr. Jolly quickly walked back out the door so his wife couldn't make him do all the work. He laughed evilly and sat down on a chair on his porch.

"Poor Chubby Chick. He was a nice chicken." he shook his head. Too bad his wife's stomach needed so much feeding. If only Chubby Chick could have lasted another season.

"Hey!" a voice came from the edge of the woods. "Hey there!"

Mr. Jolly looked up from his half naked chicken. "Eh? Who're your?"

"A friend that needs help!" a young man on a crimson horse came into view and Mr. Jolly could see an unconscious girl in his arms.

"Mrs. Jolly! We have company! And they need help!" he stood up and walked towards the cantering horse. "What's wrong?"

"She's sick." he slowed down once he got to Mr. Jolly. "She woke up this morning and was burning up."

"Humph." Mr. Jolly twitched his nose. "How'd she get sick?"

"I don't know. She just woke up sick." the young man slid off of the horse, helping the almost delirious girl off as well.

"Mrs. Jolly! She's sick!" he yelled into the house.

Mrs. Jolly came waddling out of the house. "A girl you say?" her eyes caught sight of the young man and the girl. "Oy! Well don't just stand there! Get her inside!" she waved her arms. "The poor little lamb."

The dark haired lad carried the girl inside their small little house, leaving his horse by itself.

"Well, might as well take you to the barn, eh?" Mr. Jolly took hold of the horse's reins and led him over to his small little barn.

"How'd she get sick?" Mrs. Jolly covered the girl up in a mountain of blankets and wet a cloth with cold water.

"I don't know. She just woke up that way, and she's gotten worse throughout the day." he ran a hand through his messy dark hair.

"Ahha," Mrs. Jolly murmured as she sat the cold cloth on her forehead. "What's her name?"

"She's Ryia. Ryia McCormack." he told her. "And I'm Gillian McCormack."

"Nice to meet you, Gillian." Mrs. Jolly extended her hand. "I'm Mrs. Jolly, and my husband out there is Mr. Jolly."

Gillian nodded. "Thank you very much for helping, Mrs. Jolly. I didn't know if I was going to find help, but thank the Great Father your home was opened up to us."

Mrs. Jolly blushed and batted his arm playfully. "I couldn't turn out two youngsters."

Gillian smiled weakly. "Will she be alright? It isn't anything serious is it?"

"She should be alright." she pursed her lips. "It looks like she just got weak because she hasn't been eating enough, not to mention she looks like she's as delicate as a snowflake."

Gillian sighed in relief. "She is somewhat...weaker than your average girl."

"Hmm," Mrs. Jolly narrowed her eyebrows, "I am wondering what you were doin' coming out of the woods like that. Not to mention I haven't seen you in town before. Which means you were traveling. You shouldn't be draggin' your sister around with you on your gallivanting. She isn't well enough to travel like that."

"She isn't that weak," Gillian muttered, "and she is not my sister, she's my wife."

Mrs. Jolly's eyebrows shot up. "Oh really? Well I do wonder why she would have married you, of all people." she wasn't trying to be malicious, it only came out like that.

Because I forced her to marry me? Gillian mentally offered.

"We fell madly in love at first sight." he shrugged. Isn't that what all young lovers always say?

"Ahh." she quirked her mouth into a skeptically, as if she didn't believe him. "Well you still shouldn't be dragging her around with ya. At least build her a decent home."

Gillian frowned. "We're uprooting and going to Carenthia."

"Oh really!" Mrs. Jolly exclaimed. "Well you should at least give her a break before taking her traveling again."

Gillian's frown deepened. "Time is of the essence."

Mrs. Jolly rolled her eyes. "What can be so necessary that you can't let the poor girl rest for a couple days?"

Gillian didn't say anything for a minute, almost as if evaluation her. "Promise you won't go get the authorities?"

Mrs. Jolly narrowed her eyes and studied Gillian. "You've taken the girl hostage then! Ah-hah! Markus! We have a-"

Gillian put his hand over Mrs. Jolly's mouth. "I did not taking her hostage. We haven't done anything wrong, only the officials think we have. I need you to trust me."

Mrs. Jolly nodded and Gillian removed his hand.

Markus came barreling into the room. "Eh? What's wrong Maria?"

"Markus, I think Gillian here has a little bit of explaining to do." Mrs. Jolly let out a breath and sat down at the table.

Gillian sat down at the table as well. "Can I trust you two?" he looked from Markus to Maria.

"Of course laddie. We won't turn a young couple out." Mrs. Jolly patted his hand.

He took a deep breath as Markus sat down. "She came from the village of Castile." he nodded towards Ryia. "I live in the woods. And well, one day, I found her unconscious in the woods. So I took her in and nursed her back to health. She had a broken leg, you see, and she had no memory of who she was or where she had come from."

Mr. and Mrs. Jolly nodded.

"Well one day when I was in town, I discovered that she was Evelyn Moore, and she was wanted for sorcery." he continued.

Mrs. Jolly gasped.

"I confronted her about it, and well, long story short, she isn't a sorceress. Her mother was a healer, and some people died in a village illness. The Judge believed that she was guilty and sentenced her to be burned."

Mrs. Jolly frowned and her nostrils flared but she kept silent.

"I helped her escape and we've been on the run ever since. We've been staying in the woods, and then she got sick."

"You poor children." Mrs. Jolly clucked like a mother hen. "Of course we won't tell the officials. Will we Markus?"

Markus shrugged. "They seem innocent enough to me."

Maria smiled and stood up. "Good. You'll stay right here until she's all better. And you can hide in our underground nest if the officials come." she opened up a cupboard and displayed a small hole that went down underground.

"Thank you very much Mr. and Mrs. Jolly." Gillian's relief was evident.

"Please, call me Maria, and you can call my husband, Markus." she smiled.

"Thank you Maria and Markus." he nodded slightly. "Ryia and I are indebted to you both."

Maria blushed. "Never you mind. Markus and I would like some younger company anyway." she narrowed her eyes at Markus. "Now where's that chicken?"

Markus scratched the back of his neck. "I tossed it back into the kitchen, remember?" he grinned guiltily.

Gillian chuckled quietly. "I was wondering what that chicken was doing there.

Maria rolled her eyes. "Really Markus! Go fetch!" she placed her hands on her hips.

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