One by one all the men died and Haldora became the highest priestess of the rituals. She would pick the herbs and prepare the remedies, copy the parchments and keep them safe. At times of festivals she would prepare the food and the instruments, she would run the ritual when she was alone and when more of her companions in religion appeared she would take a second position. All of the followers agreed that Haldora had been a great pupil and that her strength was ever growing. Most importantly she would train herself to be centered as her mentor had told her. Alone in this place she would meditate and tried to see the world with her third eye. She could now control the voices around her hearing only when she wanted. She was learning to control things like fire and water and fog, how to raise them and lower them. She was close to achieving what her mentor had done to her. She was close to see all of a person’s life. She could see much but not entirely.
Many decades passed and Haldora understood her appearance would not change and that that was starting to draw too much attention. She began to plan her disappearance. She took part of the celebration of the New Year in the Samahain. The next day she would soon start a new life. The night was brightened by the light of the full moon. Haldora said the rites and asked for better crops, peace and serenity for her land. She offered herbs as sacrifice and stayed at her post praying till the moon went to bed and brought the sun. She welcomed the beams of the dawn and at that time ended her ritual. Her companions had all gone, when she head back home. She would only get some more food and be on her way. Half way through Haldora saw smoke coming from her house, she ran and hiding behind a rock she saw men burning down her house. Some men were wearing robes with crosses drawn on them. She understood the warning Anna had given her. These men spoke a new language. Haldora concentrated on that language to try to understand, but most words were unfamiliar. The men rode away and Haldora remained sitting behind that rock. She prayed that this was not the end of her teachings.
After a while, she raised form her hiding place and began her trip to anywhere. She walked without a route. She had no plan. She would go where her legs would take her. She was happy to find dense woods. The sight of the man that burned her house down was still fresh in her mind and she feared they knew who she was, what she was. In a sense she was as much running from them as from anyone, she needed to be near people that had never seen her before, so as not to suspect she could not age nor die. During her journey she carved a cross like what she had seen on the men’s robes, out of wood and threaded a string around it, hanging it around her neck. She thought this would make her less suspicious to all. The significance of this new symbol, still escaped her, but she was trying harder to survive than to understand.
One rainy night, Haldora searched for a cave to stay the night when she tripped on something laying on the ground. She turned to see what it was and found a man lying on the ground shivering. His helmet was still on, but Haldora was more interested on a great wound he had on his shoulder. She ripped his iron coat as if it were paper and took a better look. She then laid him on her shoulder and with some hardship brought him into a small tight cave. She laid him down and immediately searched for wooden sticks to light a fire. It took her a while to start one because the wood was wet, but as soon as she had a spark, she made the fire grow and grow, though she had little wood. The man immediately searched the warmth of the fire. Haldora removed from her basket her sheep-skin coat, she then set about removing the wet armor from the man. When she did she came across the most familiar face she had ever seen. Her warrior was lying in front of her. She removed his clothes with heist and covered him with her coat. She examined his shoulder to find an arrow’s head stuck in it. Carefully she took it out with her knife. She turned to her basket again and removed some herbs. She heated rain water and some herbs and carefully poured it inside the wound. The warrior screamed in pain and Haldora tried to hold him down. He was half conscious and stared at her, though his eyes were as blank as dead. There was nothing less to do but wait for him to get warmer and recover.
As the night progressed the shivering slowed down and the warrior was now fast a sleep. The rain had stopped and the fire was lowered. Haldora waited till she was sure he really slept. She uncovered his body and inspected it for new wounds. She slid her hand down his torso and down to his legs, breathing deeply as she did so. She took his face between her hands and leaned down, her breath was on his face and soon her lips were on his lips. Half asleep he responded to the kiss with another. He embraced her and held her close. She allowed her body to cover his. In this embrace, Haldora could feel her body regain much of the warmth she had not felt for a long time. He did not seem to notice her natural coldness. He stroked her hair and kissed her neck. She returned the caresses. His hands soon slid down her dress and lifted her skirts, caressing her legs. Haldora breathed faster, while kissing his torso. He pushed her to glue her body to his.
- My warrior… - Haldora whispered.
- My Isabeaux… - he answered.
Haldora pressed his wound, which made him shout, he was taken by pain and laid on his side contorting. She covered him again and prepared food and water.
Crying… Disappointed… She left.
