Vand’s forehead creased severely as he digested the woman’s words. What she said was true, and he did not wish to be bothered by every citizen that passed by. Slowly, he nodded his acceptance.

The woman took the priest’s arm and started walking him towards the mouth of the alley. Several people looked curiously towards the couple, but no one came forward to help. When they reached the street, Vand hesitated, unsure of which direction to turn.

“Where are we going?” asked the woman. “Shall I guide you to a healer?”

“I have already seen the healers,” scowled Vand.

The woman frowned heavily as she stared at the priest. Finally, she sighed and nodded her head.

“To the Asylum then?” she asked.

“The Asylum?” balked the priest. “Their potions and elixirs are nothing more than swamp water. There are no healing properties in such trash.”

“I was thinking more of the Pit of Death,” the woman said softly. “If the healers cannot cure what ails you, what choice is left?”

“The Pit of Death?” Vand echoed as his eyes grew large. “There is no such thing.”

“Perhaps there isn’t,” shrugged the woman as she saw the priest’s body begin to quiver, “but the walk will do you good.”

Vand stared at the woman as if he were looking through her. For several long moments, he remained silent. Finally, he nodded his head.

“The walk will be good,” he said nervously. “Just feeling the breeze upon me has already eased the pain. Lead me to the Asylum so that I may expose the nonsense surrounding the mythical Pit of Death.”