[Writer of The Mark]

Luckily, she had been wrong this time; it wasn't after all her father. She had run down the staircases, in a hurry, in hope to reach the stable before it would have been up in flames. She hadn't been taking heed to all those who looked at her, suspecting that she was doing something she originally wasn’t supposed to do, or allowed.

As she found the door, just there with the reception she looked over her shoulder, assuring herself one last time; there was no one to stop her. Taking the door handle, shaking with excitement, she opened it and slid out. A breeze swirled around her, making the leaves fall and fly upon the waves in the air. She shivered as she realized the coolness in the air, but she didn't complain. Linnea approached cautiously. She closed her eyes tightly shut, as the heat increased. A woman, marked by the years, stood in front of Linnea. The girl saw her opportunity at once. She went over to the woman, who seemed both worried and confused. Linnea slid her hand, smoothly into the woman's, making it seem natural. Hopefully, no one would stare at Linnea now, wondering what a so young girl at her age, would be doing out here alone.

Linnea looked innocently at the woman, Ruthven, she was named. The woman stared down at the girl, who had just moments before taken Ruthven's hand.

The five years old little girl saw the expression in Ruthven's face, and decided to ask her, why she looked so troubled: "What's wrong, lady? Why are you worried?" The sound from Linnea's voice disappeared into the ocean of voices, coming from the people who were trying to turn out the fire. Nevertheless, Ruthven heard Linnea's question, and answered respectfully.

"You must be new here. I don't know you," Ruthven said, and made Linnea introduce herself.

"I'm Linnea," she said and pointed with the other hand at herself. She counted her fingers, showing the woman how old she was. "5," Linnea whispered. "I'm visiting here with my father. We're going to my uncle's so I can ride the horses again," she continued, being slightly pleased and feeling some sort of pride sneaking up on her. Linnea grew red, and turned towards the stable again. There they stood, not knowing each other, but still, hand in hand. She heard herself saying, in a thin voice when thinking about this, that the horses would be okay. "I saw the people helping them," she said, giving a faint smile.

The woman didn't seem less worried by this statement from the little girl. Linnea halted, what was it she didn't understand? She was okay with this, they would manage to take out the fire anyway. This was simply just an adventure for the young girl, who grinned, still not understanding the woman's issue. Linnea continued staring at the brave people, having the flames so close, but still standing there, doing everything in their power to prevent the fire spreading.

"It's not the horses I am worried about. It's my little friend. I couldn't find him in his room. I'm worried he chose to climb around the stable. I'm worried he is trapped inside," Ruthven assured Linnea, keeping a straight face, showing the seriousness in this whole affair. The girl couldn't understand this either. Her little friend? she asked herself and also the woman, standing next to her.

"His name is Madi Codex," Ruthven answered silently. Linnea took an extra firm grip of Ruthven's hand, her father was here.

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: Writer of The Mark ]