A group of five left Danui manor early in the morning: one hawk-nosed woman, two craggy-looking guardsmen, and two excited, golden-haired boys. It was hard to say goodbye to their home, especially since Darkil managed to rouse himself to see them off and Kaur waved at them from beside their learning tree, but the thrill of the upcoming adventure and promise of meeting and mingling with actual dragons defeated the bout of homesickness that threatened the first time Daynoren turned around on his white mare's back and couldn't see the familiar walls rising behind them, however distantly. Catame seemed a little less certain of their future, but then, he was always a little less certain of things than Daynoren.

The journey to Sanctuary would take a full month, for they would not be traveling very fast, horses or no horses. Neither Daynoren nor Catame were used to long journeys, and the lady Dana was hardly a seasoned rider. In fact, Daynoren found her precarious side-saddle position to be a very poor seat, even for that particular method of riding. He fully expected her to fall off at least once during the trip. The guardsmen also warned of possible bad weather, since they were traveling in the first month of winter. Daynoren had never actually experienced cold winters before; they were far enough south on the continent that it was fairly balmy for most of the year, if not downright sweltering. They had never been asked to study weather patterns and temperatures for northern, mountainous regions before, but Daynoren had read about blizzards and was actually quite keen to experience one-- from the safety of a window in a warm inn, of course. Catame was less enthusiastic, of course.

By afternoon, the excitement and adventure had worn off, and the dry heat of the southern inland was starting to make Daynoren irritable. His mare's bright step had turned into a quiet plodding, but even so his legs and rear end were already aching from so long in the saddle. Sweat was running down his neck and his back under his fine tunic, quite possibly ruining it; not even removing the outer vest helped. Perhaps worst of all, Catame, riding beside him on the dirt path, was wilting like a flower in too much sun. The younger boy had never had much constitution or endurance, and Daynoren worried that even an easy pace would be too much for him.

They reached the small trade town of Feradach as the sun was setting off their left shoulders, and the lady Dana led the party to the one inn the village boasted. Daynoren stared at it in dismay: it was two-storied, barely large enough for more than three or four good-sized rooms on the second story above the tavern common room, with shingles coming off the roof, a faded sign that hung unmoving in the windless air, and Daynoren imagined he could smell the reek of dirt and rats radiating from it. Surely they wouldn't be staying here, it was hardly a place for a party of noblemen to spend the night. Why-- they didn't even look like they had running water for baths! Were they expected to go to sleep filthy, or was it expected to haul one's own bath-water from the stove in this place, like some common peasant?

Unfortunately, this was exactly the place Dana planned to stay. Listening to her haggle with the innkeeper over prices, Daynoren learned that they would only be taking two rooms: one for the lady herself, and one for the boys. The guardsmen were already wandering off, perhaps, though Daynoren shuddered at the thought, to spent the night on the ground wrapped in their own cloaks. He also learned that he had guessed rightly: there would be no baths here. There would probably be bugs in the bedding. Day's skin already felt like it was crawling, just imagining it. No... there was nothing left of "adventure" in this particular venture, not if their lodgings were all like this one.

Dana returned to her charges, waving impatiently. "Come on, boys, get down and let the stableman take the horses." Feeling surly and unhappy, Daynoren glared at her, a look she ignored, already turning away to her own mount and the two pack horses, to untie their luggage. Daynoren seethed for a moment at her lack of concern, but it dissolved into shock and concern as Catame, sliding down from his own gray gelding, crumpled to the ground instead of landing on his feet. Daynoren swung off, but found when his own feet hit the ground that he wasn't in much better condition. He could stand, and walk in a slow, painful manner, but Catame's legs would not even support him without help.

"Cat," he breathed, staggering to his brother as quickly as he could. "Are you all right?" The horses hid them temporarily from their aunt's view, which was fine by Daynoren-- he didn't want her to think that both of them were such untried children that they couldn't handle a day in the saddle. It didn't matter that they were, just that she didn't know they were.

Then his concerns about what Dana would think seemed very petty when he saw Catame's white face. He crouched down with a wince and touched Catame's shoulder worriedly. "Cat?"

"I'm fine," the younger boy whispered. "My legs just hurt...."

"I'll help you, I'm not so bad off--"

"No, no," Catame interrupted quickly. "Just give me a minute--"

Before Daynoren could protest that he'd be glad to help, a tremor under his feet that he felt more with internal senses than external made him pause. Daynoren's magical sense jumped into focus just as Catame finished drawing thin, strongly Earth-aligned strands of magic through his hands and feet, anchoring and supporting him. Grounding in itself was a basic talent, both boys had been taught it early on in their magical training, but before Daynoren's astonished eyes, Catame was taking the energy he summoned and warping it, transmuting it into a soothing amber glow that soaked into his abused muscles.

The magical sight fading into natural sight, Daynoren stared in surprise as the lines of pain in his brother's face began to ease, though he was still gray with exhaustion. Grounding was basic, yes, but what Catame had just done wasn't. Day wasn't even quite sure what he'd done; Earth wasn't supposed to be the healing element, Light was. Still, a nagging memory cropped up of one of their more boring magical lessons, a theory lesson... Each of the elements can be connected to a part of life, Kaur had said. Light is the soul, your consciousness, what makes you who you are; Fire is spirit, your energy and passion; Air is thoughts and imaginations, the sound of voice and breath. Water is emotion and dream, and it flows through you as your blood. Earth is the foundation, flesh and bones, what makes you solid.

But she had also said that such things were mostly symbolism, not actual affecters-- you couldn't merge dirt with your skin to heal a wound, or make yourself energetic with Fire magic. So it still didn't make sense.

Regardless of what was supposed to do what, though, Catame was climbing carefully to his feet, clinging to his gelding's saddle for support. Daynoren quelled his thoughts on philosophical magical theory for the moment to help support him, thought heartily wishing that he could steal a bit of whatever his brother had just done for his own sore lower half. Then Dana was snapping at them to hurry up and carry their things inside, and they began the long trek inside and up the stairs to where they could finally collapse on their double bed and sleep until morning. Only one thing sustained Daynoren through that uncomfortable night: dragons had to have stayed at this inn, or how could that magic have gotten there?