For the past six months, the valley layed quiet beneath a thick layer of frost and snow. But when the ice loosened its grip and the rivers began to flow once again, the valley came to life. Merchants arriving first, from all the corners of the world, setting up stands with an overflow of jewelry, foods and crafts. After the merchants, others started arriving to the spring meeting spot. It didn’t take long before the spring market was in full bloom. The tragedy that was winter, disappearing from people's minds, quickly replaced by joy instead.

Among that mist of joy and life, was Sheeva. While others gathered in groups around the stalls filled with food, or around a bard with stories to be told, she was here for something more dangerous. Information.

The market roared around her. A bard standing on a small stage with a crowd gathered around him. Foals darting in lightning speed between the tables and stalls, chasing each other while making sure to stay out of the way of the adults. Laughter and screams of joy filling the air around a betting table, someone had clearly made the right choice. But none of it was why Sheeva was here.

Her head was held low and senses alert. Weaving through the crowd of bodies as she made her way further down the main path.

She paused at a stall, draped in indigo cloth. Glass vials catching the sunlight and spreading the rainbow colored light through the air. “Looking for something?” the vendor asked.

Sheeva glanced at him. His smile reached from eye to eye as he stood behind the table of goods, his pride for his work clear. With a slight shake of her head, she replied. “Only passing through.”

The vendor stepped past his stall, walking up to Sheeva. “Everyone is,” he said. “until they aren’t.”

Something in his voice made her shiver. Did he know something? Did he know too much? The best she could do was to move on, and so she did. Continuing walking past the stall, all while feeling the stallion's eyes on her as she disappeared in the crowd.

When she was sure she was out of sight from the stall, she turned her head back. Making sure she wasn’t followed, before turning into a small side street. Much less lively, and the atmosphere turned into something uncomfortable almost instantly. This was the place. The stalls no longer carried those baked goods who smelled like heaven, and no more flower crowns fit for a foal. The goods of these stalls were the ones not displayed openly. Transactions made only through whispers, glances and gestures. Never speaking too loud, or you might get caught by the wrong crowd.

Sheeva didn’t know exactly what or who she was looking for, but when she saw the small fortune teller’s tent, she knew that was the place. She walked up to the tent, lifting the drape with her antlers, and stepping inside. The inside was dim, the only source of light was the small lit candles and a glowing globe of glass in the middle of the room. As she looked up, her eyes met the gaze of an older mare. The kind you just knew had too much information, just from looking at her, and that was exactly what Sheeva needed.

“You took your time,” the mare said.

Sheeva didn’t respond immediately, walking forward until she was just out of reach from the older mare. Exhaling slowly before speaking. “Had to be sure I wasn’t followed.” She looked the mare up and down. “You said you had information in the letter you sent,” Sheeva continued.

“I said I might,” the mare corrected her. “News is expensive.”

Sheeva hesitated, before reaching into the small satchel at her side. Picking up a small item and placing it on the table in between them. A small shard of crystal, faintly glowing in a bright red. Blood red. “That’s what I’ve got.”

The mare inspected the piece, expression tight and sharp. “Authentic… you must have paid a large price for this one. These aren’t easy to come by.”

“It’s your payment. Now, news.” Sheeva said sharply. She didn’t have time to fool around. Time was tight.

A small huff was heard from the mare, before nodding. “Someone is in a rush, but very well… You’re looking for the caravan.”

Sheeva’s breath caught in her throat. “You know about it?”

“I know of it,” the mare said. “A moving collection. Rare items, dangerous items. Things that should not be owned by anyone. If you’re looking for a lead on your mother, that’s your place.”

“Where are they now?” Sheeva said quietly, somehow slightly uncomfortable by the fact the mare knew about her mother.

“They rarely stay in one place for long. Too risky.” Her face changed into a somewhat sympathetic look. “They are leaving tonight, traveling north, that’s the last I heard.”

North… straight to Sheeva’s home. Straight to her mothers home. “Through the north pass?”

The mare looked confused. “You know of the place?”

For once, Sheeva had the upper hand. Sitting on information even the old fortune teller did not know off. “The ruins. That’s my home.” She nodded slightly, before turning around, heading towards the exit she onces came from. “Thank you. For the information, I mean.”

“They know you are looking for them. If I were you, I would let it be. Find a quieter life and accept the fact your mother is no longer with you. Forget about the fire.”

“I can’t.” Sheeva said before stepping outside, leaving the mare inside.

Outside, the air was once again filled with the joy of the market. Laughter could be heard from the distant main area. She walked with sure steps back towards the crowds. Head held a little higher this time, now that she knew what she was looking for once again. That same merchant from before was watching her as she walked straight north. She passed pie eating contests, a local band playing music and the shining jewelry almost blinding, but she didn’t stop.

The market soon fell behind her, so full of life, of secrets and stories to be told. But Sheeva had one goal in mind. She was going to find that caravan, and she was going to find out what really happened to her mother. Even if it cost her own life.