As evening declared its silent arrival they searched for a little clearing inside the forest to get off the road. Upon finding a favorable spot Edwin got to the task of starting a fire and Evelyn helped by constantly chattering. She displayed her cooking skills with the scarce variety of food they then had, they would have been better stocked had Wheatbridge provided a more genial welcome. Unfortunately even the very process of cooking failed to silence Evelyn. Edwin didn't seem to mind any more as he laughed and smiled along with her.

"Say Edwin you sometimes seem mysterious to me. As if there is this whole layer surrounding you beyond which no one can look. Sometimes I think you are not even a traveller. How can a mere traveller have such combat skills? Who are you Edwin?"

"Had I known that I would be the wisest man alive, little Eve," said Edwin in a low tone.

"Well, that is as expressive as your horse's name," retorted Evelyn.

Edwin laughed.

He sure seems to be in a better mood. Thank Gladin!

He looked at the flames that had devouring the dried wood, every effort increasing the intensity.

"I think you deserve to know more about me," he concluded.

Damn right little Ed.

Not that she could keep the thought long in her head,"Damn right, take that veil off now."

"I stayed longer in Andlenore than I usually do in any other town. The reason is I was born there."

Evelyn's eyes widened.

That was unexpected.

"Yes," said Edwin confirming the fact. "I was nine when the town was burned down by raiders. Andlenore lies at the border so its really not much of a task to loot it. Back then it had much wealth and the land was prosperous, newly acquired and unguarded. It had marks of being a grand city, but a single raid leveled it. Never could it be raised again to its past glory."

Edwin wasn't looking at the flames. He had seen enough flames. He wasn't looking at the wood either; he was looking at the shadows they threw across. Ever changing, fickle and mild but still ever present. Evelyn grew silent, as the memories of the Wheatbridge raid surfaced. Beads of sweat grew on her forehead and she looked away as she realised that Edwin had seen what she had merely feared during that raid. At the age of nine.

She regretted ever asking him the question. Her eyes grew mildly moist as she recalled the flames. She willed the little fire in front of her to vanish in the cool night air.

Edwin continued, "Father tried to hold them back. We escaped, my mother and I. We were in fact one of the few survivors. The raiders didn't need to follow us. She was injured and couldn't take much of the journey. Then I came across a band of players who were travelling East. So I joined them then. And since then I have spent most of my time in the East learning what it had to teach, though I didn't have much to give in return."

It seemed to Evelyn that Edwin hastily completed the narrative as he didn't want to go into details of scars deep engraved. She didn't push him.

"I am sorry Edwin," Evelyn cried internally and blamed herself for nagging him.

"You don't need to be. I didn't save the town people Eve. I am not a saviour. I just killed the raiders in cold blood, swayed by desires I failed to control. Therein lies the difference," Edwin poked the fire with a stick as he spoke, his tone gone low again.

"Who can blame you? They destroyed all that was dear to you," Evelyn chocked back a sob.

Edwin didn't reply.

"Really, who were you taught world philosophy by? Saint Babyface?" said Evelyn in an attempt to cheer the mood. "So who is this Master you talked about?"

Edwin gave a faint smile at the mention of Master, "You ought to meet him. He is anything but a 'Babyface'. Heck I can't even imagine the old guy as a baby.

"I was starved and took to thieving, stole an apple. I was caught red handed by this old fellow, with vermilion robes and a huge unkempt beard, and intense eyes. He pulled up my right ear and shouted something in a language I didn't understand, I later learned it was something like 'I will teach you a good lesson you brat,' coupled with a variety of abuses. His eyes flaming bright red.

"Eventually he took me under his care. He was very particular in his habits and a temper such I have never seen. Sometimes even seemingly insignificant things can tick him off and once he is angry no one dares stop him. I remember how he even openly insulted and scolded the King in a festive feast the Royal palace had arranged. The King just stood there wide eyed, baffled, his pride crushed," Edwin gave another mild smile as he recalled the incident.

Evelyn looked baffled, "How did he insult the King and get away? Was he a Lord or something?"

Edwin laughed, "The old chap didn't have a single penny to his name. He was a Brahmin."

"A Brahmin?" Inquired Evelyn.

"Yeah a Brahmin. They usually receive more respect than the King does. And all respect them for such their path is. Usually the King receives his due respect but our old fellow didn't deem him fit. The reason is that they are the men who devote their entire life to attaining knowledge and applying it. They care not for worldly possessions like property or fields. They stand as the wheel turners of progress and achievement in their society structure. Like a Priest here handles holy matters, scholar academic, Brahmins take upon themselves the attainment of knowledge. So any person who would so choose the path would be called Brahmin."

Evelyn interrupted, "So are you a Brahmin too?"

"In a manner of speaking. Though I consider myself more of a traveler, but as travelling is acquiring knowledge, the answer to your question would be yes , at least according to the Eastern society system," Edwin replied as he threw the stick he held in the fire.

"So he taught you combat as well?" Asked Evelyn looking at the thrown stick being engulfed by the flames.

"Eastern arts and swordplay," answered Edwin his gaze still at the shadows.

"Can you teach me?" Evelyn asked with a smile.

"No," said Edwin almost instantly, his gaze now on Evelyn.

"Why? You think girls can't learn? What a shallow man," Evelyn provoked.

"It's not that, rather you will not make a good disciple," concluded Edwin.

Disciple? I like the sound of that!

"Shut up now! You don't have anything better to do anyways. You just keep travelling from place to place like a Vagabond,"Evelyn mocked. Her tone changed as she imitated Priest Bill, "Knowledge must be shared, child."

Edwin didn't reply.

"Come on! Come on! You know right? In most tales a Master chooses the disciple he initially rejects, that means I will be a your disciple soon," said Evelyn restlessly.

"You have read too many stories. My Master took me as a disciple without any sort of rejection," he said.

"Then maybe you are not the protagonist. I am. I am!" Declared Evelyn.

"Well one condition."

"What is it? What is it?"

"A single whore joke and I cease to be your Master."