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An expert bodyguard. An accomplished rider. Educated. A skilled swordsman. But how educated was she and how did that fit into these other traits? The way and confidence she talked with suggested her education level. And she had said as much with all the talk of mysterious training. It did not take a foreign entity to train a swordsman nor riding. Education though… But what education could she have specialized in? Crafting? He laughed. Not crafting nor sculpting nor writing. Engineering? She did not appear to be one. Those people were always talking about their crazy ideas and schemes and numbers.

Smithy, jeweler, farmer, he'd hit on it soon, he knew. He jumped over another fence and heard a sharp yet soft clink. He glanced behind.

Medea was far behind, yet he heard another. It was in front of him. He had gotten distracted with thinking and had let Medea fall far behind, yet in front of him were sounds of a fight, he thought. He could slow and wait, but she would be right behind him regardless.

Just in case I don't make it on tonight.

"But, what about your vision?" She asked.
"Well... I shan't put much stock in it. I was a general, alright. But I'd gotten there by blackjack and back-stab. It made me sick to think on. But I wouldn't do that. I'd sooner retire. I'd sooner die."
She gazed into the mists swirling on the floor, her hands held to her breast, idly searching the front of her tunic, as if worrying at an old wound.
"What was yours? What about the war."
She looked into his eyes, searching. "You had died. In battle. Both of us."