Les doigts engourdis de Lily ont pris la gaine automatiquement, regardant l'homme qui avait été leur guide pendant pas même des jours – mais l'idée de continuer sans lui se sentait impossible. Elle n'y avait pas pensé jusqu'à maintenant, mais même quand la forêt était en vie contre eux, même quand une bête démoniaque s'éloignait de leurs cauchemars, il y avait eu une dernière pensée illogique que Spook savait quoi faire.
Peut-être qu'il savait ce qu'il faisait maintenant, mais Lily ne l'a pas fait.
Il lui avait donné une épée et l'avait dirigée vers sa sœur, qui pourrait ou non être en danger. Les gens n'ont pas fait ça, pas pour des gens comme elle. Et elle allait le rembourser en le laissant mourir seul sur un champ stérile avec une maladie le mangeant de l'intérieur. Pendant un long moment, elle a envisagé de dessiner l'arme dans ses mains et de rester avec lui, parce qu'elle baise si jamais elle a fait ce que les gens lui ont dit, mais, comme c'était si souvent le cas, la réalité s'est mise en place.
Des gens sont morts. Essayer de l'arrêter ferait juste de vous l'un d'eux; elle avait appris cette leçon à maintes reprises.
"Tu ferais mieux de revenir bientôt pour ça," a dit Lily, incapable de garder toute la tension de sa voix. Elle a serré la main de Spook un moment avant de s'emparer de l'épée, la tenant fermement à sa poitrine – il faudrait plus qu'un brindille sautée pour la prendre maintenant. "Je pourrais avoir un joli sou pour ça dans un magasin de forgerons, et alors où seras-tu? Sur une bonne épée, c'est là."
Elle hésita pendant un autre long moment, les mains blanches aux menottes, avant de lever le menton et de tourner sur son talon sans autre mot. Lily n'a pas regardé en arrière quand elle s'est effondrée dans un jogging vers la ville dans le sillage de la mech trundling.
Dieux, il mérite mieux.
Lɪʟʏ Mᴀᴅʏɴᴇ
A practical lady of the night who has decided it’s time to move on.


Ask anyone in the lower quarter of Enn—Lily (although no one really believes that’s her name) is a florist. A successful florist. A curiously successful florist, actually, for someone who lives in one of the poorest district in the city, where few people have to coin or the urge to buy the delicate blossoms she peddles. Occasionally, she’ll take her wares to the upper districts and actually come home with an empty basket—but that’s not really how she makes her livelihood, and everyone knows it.
Almost six years ago, times were tough on the docks of Enn—there was little work, all of it backbreaking, and much too difficult for Lily’s widow father or her three younger sisters to keep up for long. For months, as the family got closer and closer to starving, Lily tried to find work for herself, and took any and all jobs to keep the family afloat. Every once in a while, though, she’d dream of leaving the city and finding adventure and riches—but she’d never abandon her family like that.
One day, some rich merchant’s boy offered her an entire silver piece for a drunken kiss, and she had her ‘eureka’ moment.
Things quickly escalated, and these days she’s making enough to support herself, her father, and her sisters—all three of whom now have lives of their own, in Enn and in other cities, all of which Lily paid for. The youngest is studying at the Royal University, the next oldest works for a seamstress in the next city over, and the second oldest lives on one of the outlying farms as a stablehand. Their room and board, their food, their tuition, father’s medicine—all of it, bought on Lily’s dime, and she doesn’t mind one jot. As far as she’s concerned, once she crossed the line, she might as well do the best she can. ‘Shameless’ is an understatement—she’s actually very proud of how far her family’s come.
These days, though, things are not as good as they were a year ago, even if her sisters are largely supporting themselves now. Her father’s wasting sickness has only gotten worse, and even with more and more coin going towards his care, his condition declined. Rapidly. With all her experience, she could see what was coming plain as day, but refused to believe it.
She saw the notice calling for Traveller’s companions on a Saturday. Her father died on Tuesday. Today is Thursday, and she’ll be at the east gates with all she owns at the crack of dawn. There’s nothing left for her to do in this city now—time to find those adventures she’s been dreaming of.