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No, it could not be true! Heidla was lost - lost in this weird unfriendly wretched stupid hideous world she knew almost nothing about. How could that happen? How could a priestess that was supposed to show paths get lost? She had no answer. Everything here was so different from what she expected it to be - so wrong, so mismatched! She remembered her Isle, and her face quivered. Why, why, why they let it happen? Why weren't they warned in their trance? Why should they be thrown into this new world she already feared - feared because it was so foreign, with is hectic architecture, monsters of all shapes running around - and all those she remembered gone and lost forever. She felt lonely and sick - and started sobbing despite her resolution not to let herself sob. At least, no-one could see it here. She was lost, wasn't she?

Suddenly she heard a noise and checked herself. Then someone called out, and when she turned, angry and upset that someone saw her moment of weakness, she saw.... but who was that exactly? Would he show her the way back? Her voice still trembling and husky from emotion, she addressed the intruder: "I am Heidla the priestess. And I am lost!" - and then, out of pity for herself - and of the stupidity of the situation - and the whole world gone wrong - she sobbed again.

Heidla froze. What was going on? That was so.... impossible.... demanding immediate attention.... impossible... outrageous... threatening.... nice. It actually felt nice to find herself in somebody's arms, and not to think about anything but just to whine selfishly and selflessly at the same time! So she burried her nose deeper in the chest of the creature who hugged her (she didn't even realize who it was who consoled her) and continued complaining:
"This world is so untrue.... Why would they destroy our Isle?... Why would we have to settle in here, where we do not belong and do not fit? This is not fair! Stupid, stupid humans, why should they do it?"

She let herself be weak for a moment. She indulged in it and actually enjoyed it. Where was the capricious and short-tempered priestess whose name was a pest to almost everyone in the Death clan? "I will just forget about it for a while" - she whispered to herself, clutching the hands of the creature who didn't step back. "Isn't it a dream? I was lost so I entered the trance to find a way, but as I am lost in a more general way, the trance showed me what I need most, and that is a shoulder to cry on", she mused, and then realised that the "dream" is becoming too real, and opened her eyes in a sudden shock:

"And who would you be? Haven't I dreamt you up?"

Heidla felt uneasy. For a proud priestess of Death, as self-sufficient as she was, it was hard to realize that it was for the first time in her life that someone was kind to her. The drill of the priestesses included their ability to suppress any emotions ; if they didn't, they would not be able to cope with all that mass of information they had to absorb. Moreover - the bitter experience Heidla gained in her life was that the less involved you are, the more professional you deal with it; if you allow yourself to get dragged into the situation, you'll lose in the end. That's the bare truth that formed her character - being unable to sympathize with, she turned unsympathetic.

And that's why this unprecedented act of kindness on behalf of a stranger both frightened and mesmerized her. It felt so shamefully weak of her - and so fascinatingly weak as well! Could it be that someone was kind without any reason for it? In the calculating mind of the priestess it somehow didn't make sense, so she gave the person more private space - and gasped out curiously; "And who are you?"

One of the Halloweeners, she could guess that much. Definitely not one of the Clansmen.

Her question sounded rude and blunt, so she hastened to introduce herself: "I am Heidla the Death priestess", she signed unhappily - and then guessing it somehow by the charged atmosphere, simply added: "You must be one of the Amityville dwellers and you must not like me. I thank you for being kind to me. There's not much love left between your people and mine, and yet you are kind to me. I really appreciate it.".

It was quite weird for her -though of course he could not know it - to thank someone. She wasn't used to it, and yet she felt it necessary - both for his being here for her, and for herself to be reassured by his presence.

Memories of the past overwhelmed Heidla. Her features softened, her eyes became dreamy, and she murmured: "So, you were there...." The eerie frozen landscape of her home seemed to be reflected in her eyes, and she felt as if she were falling into a trance - and then suddenly jumped out of it, and cautiously raised her eyes to watch the student - if he was mocking her.

This student seemed to be so nice and easy....not the way she imagined the Halloweeners. Could it be that she was mistaken? He seemed friendly and concerned about her, after all. It could have been a trap, of course, but after having spent almost a month locked in her room, could she be just too eager to vilify those who were not of her kin? She remembered that the head priestess told her how the Amityville students fought on their side against the humans. It was too easy to feel bitter about her world destroyed, and to blame it on other fear creatures for being unable to save it. But as a clear-sighted priestess she should admit - though she wouldn't, of course she wouldn't - it was not the fault of Amityville that the Isles were gone.

She smiled ruefully. "I am sorry, Calder. I must be confused, after having spent too much time alone. It is one of the first times I ventured out of the safety of my room, and I do not know your..." she gulped and paused, then continued with evident difficulty "... world well enough, so I must be too rash in my conclusions. Of course, I know your people bear no grudge against us, it's just so easy for us to fall into despair".

She looked around. "Besides, this place is not exactly friendly, and I couldn't find my way out of here", she signed.

Then, driven by a strange impulse, she implored: "So you remember my home? Tell me more about your stay there, I would love to hear you speaking about my Isle!"

Heidla smiled. There was an air of sweet understanding around the person, though his words amused her: "Noisy? I have always thought that home was the quietest place in the world.... but I have rarely ventured out of the temple and the library - but you probably mean the forges. Yes, they were loud, after all, thy're working with metal and stuff, that's always loud. Though I have never seen them work - now I think I should have done it, it feels like a big chunk of our life I never cared about, all gone", she signed.

Then something he said made her giggle. "Hooves! So you're a horseman, a relative in a way!" - she looked at his legs and smiled mildly. "I should have asked you to tell me more about your homeland, not mine. Though it's always sweet to share memories, and always interesting to listen to someone telling you about your home, as a priestess I should be interested to learn about other places and other people. I am sorry to have forgotten about my duties - you must feel I am not interested enough, but of course I am. I am safe to suppose that your world is different from both mine and Amityville, and that you like swamps"

Heidla shivered. "I can understand it, though, this damp and cold beauty - it reminds me of home, though we had it less wet and much colder. But there's something similar in the solemn and wild beauty that this place has, similar to our eerie and hostile icescapes. I wonder if your home is of the same kind - aloof and frozen in its solitary beauty," she looked up at him beseechingly. "But then again, I might be wrong. So - though it is a strange thing for a priestess to say - I need you guidance. I would love to explore this place with you".

"Our water is frozen", Heidla laughed. "It is still water, but not very... talkative, I must admit", she remembered the solemn never melting ice of her home. "It has its own stories, but they are hidden deep in the transparent layers, and you have to go into a trance to read those", she was not sure he could follow her, but still it was more similar to a decent conversation than her previous whining and wailing.

She was thankful to accept his hand when a log blocked her way, and she had to climb to get over it. "I know you're not horsemen", she continued. "That was supposed to be a joke".

For a moment she considered the possibility of growing irritated with his doubting her knowledge of the Clans history, but then decided that would be black ingratitude, and simply explained. "I wanted to make us feel closer; most Halloweeners view us with distrust anyway. Not that we are particularly fond of other fear creatures... As for us being horsemen, we do have mounts, you know! For mine is not particularly equine, it is a seal.... but Heirs to the clans, or Protectors, as they are known now, can turn into horse-like creatures.."

She paused. "But then, there seems to be a bit of truth in my words. So you, too, have clans, similar to ours. Or are they?" She thought about the differences between Death, Conquest, War, and Famine, and continued: "When you were on our Isle, you must have seen other clansmen, too. What are your home clans like? Do you have priestesses, like we do, or the imperial bloodline, like the Conquest clan, or is it more like Famine has it? And what do you mean by protecting your clan? Who's your enemy? "

Probably, her questions were too direct, she wondered whether Calder felt like talking about his home and what his real feelings towards it were, but then she shrugged it off. If he was uncomfortable with it, he would let her know. So she just smile and waited for his answer.

Heidla was mesmerised. It was one thing reading stories in ancient manuscripts, but here she was, learning things yet unknown directly from a foreigner! That was new, that was wonderful! She felt she was a pathfinder, a pioneer, a chronicler! And there was more to it. She was moved, and personally interested - the story was not distant and cold, as one you read in a book, but close and emotional. She was excited, her eyes brightened, and her features softened.

"What a curious way to divide territories - by rivers and lakes and... water! I just can't imagine there could be so many rivers; I guess, I haven't even seen one in my life. But this must be convenient, and water forms natural borders between your clans", she thought about her own isle, separated by water from the isles of other clans.

"Yes, I understand your feelings about royalty. I have always thought it weird, too. Take, for example, Conquest. They're all about genealogy and Imperial family and bloodline purity and honour " she shrugged her shoulders. "As for the rule of the strongest, that must be closer to the War clan - have you been there? They're all about strength and fight and show-off. We, the Death Clan, rely on wisdom - that's why the order of priestesses keeps records of "souls", and conduct trance sessions and help those who need guidance...." she signed. It all seemed so right and yet, will it ever be the same for them? "Do you have a spiritual order as well?"

"And I understand what you say about protection. We also had a caste whose duty was to keep us safe, and we also had sort of personal bodyguards", she frowned. "Though we were not ruled by them, of course. It's more like we order them what to do."

She thought for a while and then made a guess. "So, were you sent here as one of the strongest to learn new ways to defend your people?". The boil seemed so nice it was natural for her to suggest he was one of the leaders of his clan. She liked him, and she wanted his life to be easy and happy. "Could it be that you come from one of those great ancestors you mentioned? Would you tell me one of those stories of great feats?"

Probably, she was a little bit too enthusiastic, but she was young and inexperienced and didn't know life after all.