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"Hey mister!” a small furrikin girl calls out to me as I march slowly along the side of the road. "Hey mister! Where are you going? Aren't you cold? What's your name? My name is Sariin"

"I'm unsure . . . only on the first count." I replied in a harsh voice, it felt as though I had just woken from a long slumber.

I was tall compared to the young girl, but when compared to my elfen brethren I was substantially shorter. What few clothes I had on were of a soft white silk. Brilliant white robes and a fedora on my head, and lacking shoes or gloves on the cold road in the early winter months, I was cold.
"Arafinwe, and it is a tad cold, but I am unsure of where I am going."

The little girl smiles and reaches for her satchel. "You can have this if you like . . . I don't have a need for it anymore." She pulls out a scarf and hands it to me.

Looking at the scarf and the little girl, I give her a grateful nod and accept the generous gift. Wrapping it around my neck though, I could detect a faint scent of sickness. I continued to walk next to the young furrikin for many miles in silence. I had no idea where we were going or why, but I had no memory of where I had been or why. The only thing I felt was that I should follow her to her destination.

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We happened upon some other pilgrims on the road, with the few gold coins in pocket I was able to buy some leather to fashion myself some boots from. It made the freezing rocky road more bearable, though I did not expect the boots to last very long.

"You are good at making clothes, those are good boots." The silence may have made her uncomfortable, or she may have been trying to ease my mind. She was showing signs of fatigue, yet she never stopped walking for any reason unless I needed to rest. I never ask her to wait up for me, and she never asked me to hurry for her. Not once did we ever word that we were traveling together.

"Is there something I could make for you?” she stopped walking and turned to me, a tilt in her head as she pondered.

"You don't have to make it for me, but if you make a dress I'd like to try it on. I've never gotten to wear a dress before, I'd like to one day." she said with a small smile on her face.

Deep down I had a feeling that I knew where we were going, I just didn't want to acknowledge it. "Okay," I said with a half-hearted smile, "I'll make a beautiful dress and you can wear it for as long as you like."

Sariin giggled and picked up her stride again, the signs of her fatigue all but gone.

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The road seemed to have no short supply of travelers, all willing to part with cloth or silk and precious gems for but a few gold coins. Soon I had enough materials to begin work on a humble dress fitted for the young girl. I would justify it as payment for the scarf if she tried to refuse it.

Days and months passed on the road, and as if it were draining the energy from her, as the dress neared completion little Sariin was looking more and more frail; her cheeks more gaunt by the day, her waist more slender, she was walking slower, and she was needing frequent stops to rest now.

When we stopped to rest for the night she would stay up, when she had the energy and watch me work on the dress. She was always interested in the techniques, from preparing the cloth and curing it oils to watching my stitch work. Never asking when it would be finished, or saying what she wanted it to look like, she just watched with a gentle smile on her face.

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Most nights were spent in silence as I worked, we never asked each other questions about where we came from; this one night though, she broke the silence.

“I came from the snow valley, the taurians found me on this road when I was very small. Even though I wasn’t one of them, they took me in and cared for me. I was separated from my parents a long time ago and they became my family.” She crawled up to my side and under my arm. “I decided I wanted to look for my parents, that is all. I should be there soon. Where are you going to go?”

I hadn’t thought about it, I had no idea where I was going to go, or even if I have anywhere to go. I didn’t particularly care right now. “Oh, I don’t know, I’ll find something to do; maybe open a shop up on the mountain where all the pilgrims visit.” I continue cutting and sewing cloth in silence, Unsure of what else to say to her.

I let her sleep just like that, under my arm. I couldn’t bring myself to move her, so I left in that position being careful not to wake her.

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A few more days passed, and we came upon a small cottage. Sariin was barely walking on her own anymore. Her skin and fur was pale and tired. She stopped and turned towards me.

“This is it; this is where my family lives.” She said with a slight smile on her face. “Take care on your journeys Arafinwe. Thank you for keeping me company!”

She was lying. This wasn’t her home, this old building had been abandoned long before Sariin had ever been born, she wasn’t mistaken either. She knew this wasn’t her home. What she did know . . . she couldn’t bring herself to say to me.

“Wait!” I cried out as she started toward the cottage, “You forgot your dress.” I produced a humble yet elegant green dress from my satchel; I had finished it a couple nights before, but pretended to continue working on it every night. Afraid of what would happen if I were to give it to her.

Giving Sariin the dress was agonizing, I knew what was coming, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it. This little dress was the only thing I had tying me to this small life.

Her smile lit up like the sun, and for a moment you could never have guessed she was ill. For the first time since we met she was almost as childlike as her appearance, happily she accepted the dress and started towards the cottage.
Just before entering the cracked and rotten door she turned to me, “Thank you, for staying with me for so long.” She turned back to the door and disappeared within the darkness.

I started down the road. I knew what she had come here to do. She was sick, and she was not going to come back out of that door. She was protecting me, and I wasn’t going to take away her peace of mind. There was nothing I could do anymore; except hope, that I had given her something to smile about.

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The road was cold and lonely, but I continued to walk it for many years. One day I happened upon the remains of a small cottage, it was old and broken down. Feeling a sense of long lost nostalgia I explored the ruins.

Inside was not much of note except a green dress inside of a closet that was wrapped around a single painting. The painting was beautiful, of a young frail furrikin girl in a green dress overlooking a grassy field. The artist seemed to portray the same sense of sadness and hesitation that I felt looking at the dress. These memories had long been buried in my mind, and the days with young Sariin came trickling back like a weak stream fighting the changes of the world around it.

I took the dress and painting outside with me and came upon a small pile of stones. I placed the dress and the portrait under the stones and continued along the road into the forest beyond, never looking back.

One more echo fading in the stage . . .