Young Writers Society

Mel was over the moon that they finally had an opportunity to have actual privacy. She could only pretend to get actual firewood with Jordan so many times.

And yeah, okay, maybe this base was less about their relationship and more about the entire group unwinding and cleaning up, but still. Mel was grateful nonetheless.

She and Jordan were cuddling on the bottom bunk, her head perched on his chest as she drew little hearts on his chest.

"You are so not like the other guys," she said, drawing a big heart over his heart.

"That so?" Jordan asked. "What were the other guys like?"

"Not as funny or handsome as you, that's for sure," she said with a bright smile, looking up at him.

Jordan chuckled, brushing a stray hair away from her face as he looked down at her.

"I guess it's fair to say you're not like the other girls too," Jordan said. "But that's also not fair, because you're literally from another world."

"Maybe I'm an angel sent here to be with you," Mel teased.

"Then I'd tell you you're out of this world," Jordan teased back with a grin.

Mel laughed and rolled her eyes, rolling over so that she'd be laying on his chest instead. She laid her arms across him and perched her head on top, her face inches away from his.

"Do you tell all the girls that?" she continued to tease.

"What other girls?" Jordan asked. "It's just you and me right now."

"Oh my gosh. You are so full of pick up lines. How do you think of all this?" Mel said with a giggle.

"Well, to be honest, pick up lines are cheesy and all, but they hardly ever work," Jordan said with a small laugh.

"Lies. You had me at 'hello,'" she said with a bigger smile.

"Well, you'd be the first," Jordan said with a little laugh. "But thanks."

Mel held his eyes, leaning her head down to the side. "All jokes aside... I really do think you're not like the other guys," she said. "And I'm surprised that you're not already taken. Lucky me?"

"I could say the same about you," Jordan said. "I'm surprised you're still single yourself. Was the pond really that small back on earth, or was it just that nobody saw what I see?"

Mel giggled over his words, but she knew what he was really saying. And she thought it would be good to have this conversation anyways.

"Not really a pond. More like an ocean," she said with a little shrug. "But you know what they say. There are always bigger fish to catch, and it looks like I caught a big one."

Jordan laughed.

"Is that just because I'm tall?" he asked.

"No, it's because you have a big heart, silly," Mel said as she leaned in for a quick kiss, making a loud "mwah" sound.

Jordan giggled.

"Have you ever gone fishing?" Jordan asked.

Mel raised a brow. "No, why?"

"Well, I just think it's funny you used a fish analogy. I grew up in a fishing town," he said. "On an island in the west. I grew up spearing fish by the cove and diving down to the reefs... it was a really beautiful place. Sometimes I really miss it, being so far from the ocean."

For some reason, this caught Mel off guard. She obviously knew Jordan enough to understand his background, but he hadn't gone in this kind of detail during an intimate moment like this yet. She found it endearing, though.

"What's it like over there?" she asked.

"In the isles?" Jordan asked.

"At home," Mel answered.

Jordan hummed, and at the mention of the word 'home' there was a wistful look in his eyes as he looked up at the bunk overhead.

"It's a much slower pace of life," he said. "I don't know how to describe it. It feels so much simpler. Peaceful. Everyone in the village knows everyone, and it's like you're all family."

"If you could, would you go back?" she asked.

"I think I would," Jordan said. "But... I also don't know. Life looks so different, now. It has ever since I had to run away. It's hard to imagine it ever going back to what it was like before."

"Yeah..." Mel laid her head flat against his chest again, doing him the service of pushing her hair out of his face. "I'm sorry you can't go back. That must be awful."

"Well... I guess that makes two of us," Jordan said softly. "Misery loves company, or whatever people say."

"I've never liked that phrase. Why be miserable together? That sounds miserable," she said.

"Hmm," Jordan said. "What would be better?"

Mel thought through this for a brief second. "Love loves company?" she said with a little laugh.

"People love company?" Jordan suggested. "But. Hm. I guess some people are hermits. Love loves company works."

"I certainly love your company," Mel said as she poked his side.

"And I love yours," Jordan said softly, poking her arm.

Mel beamed, settling into his chest again. A brief silence filled the air between them.

"So I was thinking... others might think that we're a couple," she said, ending it there to first gauge his reaction.

Jordan looked down at her with slightly raised brows but a slight grin.

"Unsurprising seeing as we spend a lot of time together," he said.

"Right, yeah. And I know we're like, only seeing each other anyways. So I was wondering... well..." She looked up to him unexpectedly.

"Do you want to make it official?" he asked with a growing smile.

Mel beamed. "I thought you'd never ask."

It was a little weird to be back in the room with Eve and Adina, but Elias decided to not think of it too much. He did find Adina cute and he enjoyed her presence, but he didn't want the knowledge of knowing that she liked him to change his perception of her. He came in a plan to just be by himself and the rest will work out eventually.

But he did want to talk to her... eventually, again, just the two of them. Eve seemed oddly silent for the remainder of the night as she was instead absorbed into her journal and one of Adina's books. Whenever Elias asked if their chatter bothered her, she insisted that it didn't - although Elias was sure that it did since she was a stickler for only reading in silence.

Elias spent the majority of the night talking to Adina and getting to know her some more. He learned that she was originally from the Desert Sands and a town called Woodhearst. She said her family came from some generational wealth and that her mother had secretly been a mage for years before she mysteriously disappeared one day. She believed her mother to be dead but didn't know for sure, and her father never spoke of it. Adina had to leave home at 16 when she was discovered as a mage and had been on the run ever since. Apparently she traveled with James and a group of some other outlaws before she joined the guild. It was a lot of information, but Adina was surprisingly open.

Eventually, they showered, ate, and went to sleep. Elias slept really great that night knowing that the lack of smell probably made him more likeable to Robin. That, and he was impressed by how much dirt was in his hair. It was practically a whole shade lighter now.

Elias woke up to the smell of breakfast. Elias woke up first, but the creaks from him getting out of bed seemed to wake the others. He wished them all a good morning before rushing off to take another morning shower. Not because he sweat in his sleep again, but because he was going to miss running water and wanted to hold a ceremonious goodbye to it.

After they leave this place, maybe he really should ask Jordan if he could be his shower... then again, that did feel like a really weird request. Especially if he was just going to stare at him bathe.

When Elias came back, he found everyone gathered near the kitchen. Everyone in Elise's room was helping to prepare the meals. Some others helped, but for the most part, everyone was hanging around the tables near the main entrance.

Elias asked if he could help, but Elise and others assured him that they had this under control and would rather he chat with the others. So he did exactly that. He saw Eve and Adina talking, so he hung out to chat with Clanny and Alistair.

"I have to know," he said as he eyed the two of them. "Did you warm up the water with your magic when you showered? Or did you also shower with cold water?"

Clanny grinned.

"That secret stays with me," she said.

"She totally tried," Alistair said for her. "I only know that because there was steam coming out from under the door."

"Hey," Clandestine said, giving Alistair a playful shove. "You ruined my whole mysterious vibe."

"Yeah... so mysterious," Alistair mocked.

"I think she's a little mysterious. Monster hunting seems mysterious," Elias said.

Clandestine humphed and turned to Elias.

"It is mysterious. You have to be an expert on every creature there ever was!" she said.

"Okay, Clanny. Picture this: the most mysterious monster you've ever seen. One, two, three, go," Elias said with a wide smile, his counting slurring together.

"Oh, wind wolves without a doubt," Clandestine said. "Unlike most creatures, they're actually immaterial, but still sentient. Basically imagine a force of wind shaped like a wolf, but they come and go as they please. Like, they materialize out of thin air. Where do they come from? Where do they go? No one knows."

Elias hummed. "Can you even pet them?" he asked.

"Nope! I mean, how can you pet something that you can't... feel? It's not like it has a solid form," Clandestine said.

"So how do you know it's not normal wind that kind of looks like a wolf?" Elias asked.

"Well, you can pretty clearly see like, their semi-transparent forms when they materialize. You normally can't see wind, you know," Clandestine said. "They kind of have this glowing blue outline."

Intrigued, Elias continued to ask more questions, and Clandestine seemed more than happy to answer each and every one of them. He walked away from the conversation feeling like a novice monster hunter. Well, without the hunting, anyways.

They all stood in line to grab their breakfast. The potatoes in particular looked tasty and crunchy. Elias was tempted to sit down at the first open spot he found around a table and scarf down his food, but he held back, waiting for Adina to walk out of the kitchen. He found her after only waiting another minute.

"Hey Adina," he called before she could get too far, waving. "We always eat in a group, but I was thinking we could eat somewhere else, just the two of us. What do you think?"

Adina's face lit up with a surprised smile, and he noticed she blushed.

"Oh!" she said. "Sure. Yeah, let's do it."

With a smile, Elias led the way down the hall again, but honestly, he didn't have much of plan other than just being with her. In retrospect, eating in a smaller, more dimly lit area was probably not, like... even comfortable. But oh well.

His eyes flicked between the room and the hall. He decided to then plop on the ground where he was at, scooting back to lean against the wall.

"Option's are kind of limited right now, but at least it's quieter?" he said with a smile.

Adina followed his lead and plopped down next to him, leaning against the wall as well.

"It's fine," Adina said pleasantly. "You work with what you can in a group like this."

"Whawasat?" Elias tried to say with his mouth full of the the crispy potatoes. He was so hungry, he couldn't wait to eat.

"Wanna try that again?" she asked with a giggle.

Elias finally fully chewed his food and swallowed it down. "I said you look nice today," he said with a smile.

Okay, that was not what he actually said before. But this felt more right, especially since he was still trying to fully scope out Adina. Was she just being really friendly?

"Thanks," Adina said, looking away shyly. "You do too. Your hair's doing this uh, flippy thing in the back."

She motioned with her hands to try to imitate the shape.

Elias chuckled, running his hand through his hair and trying to stretch it out in front of him to see it again.

"I think I need a haircut," he said.

"I don't know, the longer look suits you I think," Adina said.

Elias grinned. "You think so? It's been a long time since it's grown this long... feels kind of weird, really. Maybe someday it'll be as long as yours. That might take some decades though."

"Decades?" Adina asked. "Does your hair grow that slow?"

"It took, like... a year... ish... to get this long. So... hm." Elias measured the length of his hair with his finger and then compared it to her, hovering his hand next to her hair.

"Was it super short before that?" Adina asked.

"I think so. I mean, yeah. Pretty short," he said as he compared the lengths, mentally counting in his head. "And okay, maybe it wouldn't take decades. I'm not good at math," he said with a little laugh as he pulled his hand away.

"Well, I'm pretty good with numbers," Adina said. "So if you need help with any math, just ask me. I'm pretty quick."

"Aw, I appreciate it." He paused to think, looking back at her with a grin. "What's two hundred fifty-seven plus seven hundred fifty-two?"

Adina looked up for half a second.

"1009," she said.

Elias hummed, impressed. Although he didn't really have a way to verify that.

"I'll take your word on it," he said. "How do you think of that so fast?"

"I don't know," she said. "Practice, I guess? My dad was really good at math and taught me, so I guess that helps."

"Still impressive. I'd rather write a paper than memorize a bunch of number logic," Elias said.

"I'm not very good at writing," Adina said. "I mean, I like to do it, sometimes, but it doesn't really come easily. I'll journal but... I wouldn't really want to write a paper. I'd take math problems over that."

Elias nodded. He was about to admit that his writing was also subpar, but he'd rather not admit to all his mediocre school subjects right away.

"I get that. Math is a language too. So you're just writing a different type of paper," he said.

"And numbers," Adina said, turning to her food like she'd only just remembered it was there.

She took a bite of potatoes. Elias did too, happily getting the time to eat his food, maybe a little too quickly.

There was a reason that he wanted to talk to Adina alone, though. Well, okay. A few reasons. He wanted to get to know her better, yes, but also because he wanted to talk about some things that would be more comfortable in a private setting.

Mainly because the topic concerned himself.

He was sure that Elise was right. Adina seemed to take a liking to him. Elias liked her too, but he wanted to be more honest about who he was. He didn't want to lead her astray or be surprised by anything.

"So... there are a few things you should probably know about me," he said, deciding to just go for it and have this discussion now. "I'll just list them out. One: I think you're really pretty and nice and I don't want you to think I'm hiding anything. Two: I'm not really proud of my past. I can talk about it openly if you want, but, well... not proud of it. Just a heads up. And third: I have a son. He was here for a little bit before you got here, but he's somewhere safer now. But... yeah. I thought you should know."

Adina was quiet for a moment, listening as she chewed slowly. When he was done, she nodded slightly.

"Okay," she said softly. "Then you should know some stuff about me too."

She swallowed, making sure her throat was clear before she continued.

"One: I think you're really handsome and nice. Two: I have a long history of struggling with bad anxiety, and I'm trying to be better about it, but it's probably helpful for you to know. Three: I have a heart condition. It's caused me some problems in the past, but I've had treatment for it, and it's manageable now. It can be kind of scary when it flares up though."

A beat of hesitation.

"So yeah. Now you, uh... know," she said with a small, shy smile.

Elias was watching her the whole time, his smile slowly growing bigger until it reached his eyes. He probably stared at her with a goofy smile. He didn't know.

But it then dawned on him that this was not really a moment to look at her with a goofy smile.

He cleared his throat and tore his gaze away, remembering her words. Trying his best to memorize them.

"Thank you for telling me. I know that can't be easy to say, but..." He smiled at her again, trailing off.

Adina looked at him expectantly for a moment, but then smiled with laughter in her eyes.

"Thanks for telling me your things too," she said. "I already knew about Finnley, though. I heard it from some of the others mentioning it in conversation. I don't think they were trying to gossip, it was just, you know. Offhanded kind of thing."

"Oh. Right, yeah," Elias said with a little laugh. "I guess it really is common knowledge. It's not like I'm trying to keep him a secret or anything."

"I didn't think you were," Adina said. "But, for the record, if you ever want to talk about things in your past, and I can talk about mine too, I'm interested in that. Doesn't have to be now, though. I don't think we've uh, got a whole lot of time before we head out and pack up."

She blinked.

"Reverse that order. Pack up and head out," she corrected.

"Didn't even notice," Elias said with a smile. "But you're right. I'm not rushing anything. I'm just glad we're on the same page."

"Me too," she said with a smile.

If the first month had been a blur, James didn't even know how to describe this.

He blinked, and two weeks had passed. At least, that was what he was told. He didn't really know how much time had passed anymore, and he didn't know how he would even comprehend the passing of time when he'd been kept unconscious for so much of it. The world around him felt like a distant dream, and even physical sensations didn't seem to register as real. When he was awake, when he was asleep, when he was somewhere in-between - it all melded together in a mess, and he genuinely couldn't parse out what conversations had been real and which ones were imagined.

Some things were easier to pin down, like the ridiculous, bizzare visions that clearly wouldn't result in anyone around him still being alive, or even himself still having a mind to dream. On occasion, he was able to differentiate the feeling of a dream with a message from Eve. It felt different in his mind - it was something he had to actively pay attention to, as opposed to something that just happened. But even those felt warped and distorted through the haze of lumshade infecting his mind.

The moments that ripped him back to reality were the ones of pain.

When the medic took the stitches out of his tongue, it didn't matter how much lumshade was in his system. His eyes shot open, and he was fully aware of it all.

His body was healing, but it didn't feel like it. Then again, maybe it was that he couldn't really tell how much of the pain was real and how much of it was his body reacting and overreacting to the stress of it all.

Rita kept telling him he was finally getting better. And maybe he was, physically.

But it felt like his mind was melting away.

There were moments where, once the stitches were taken out, that Rita would sit with him, goading him on to speak so he could learn again. Because this was his life now - he had to relearn how to speak, now, with a tongue that didn't feel like it healed quite right.

"I know it hurts," Rita said. "And your voice is going to be tired. But I need you talk to me."

James was lying on the bed at the edge of the wagon, too drained to sit up. His limbs felt heavy, and though some of the lumshade was starting to wear off, he still didn't feel like he was present.

"Fuck you," James said, but the 'k' sound hurt his mouth.

Rita was unimpressed.

"That's a start," she said dryly. "It's amazing how, even now, you still have the energy to be petty."

James stared up at her. He knew there was a tarp behind her, but he was seeing a flood of colors, spinning and bubbling like lava.

"And it's amazing," James said slowly, feeling both his voice and every muscle in his mouth and tongue strained. "How you expect that to change."

Rita laughed, and half of her face began to melt away.

"Oh, hon," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't expect you to change. But do I wish for it? All the time..."

And, unceremoniously, she injected him with another dose. Predictably.

When he woke up next, it was midday. Or, at least, that was how it felt.

The sun was bright behind the wagon's tarp and the air was getting cooler. It dawned on him, only then, that he'd spent half the summer in captivity, and the humid heat had come and gone. Now the temperatures were dropping, and the warmest time of day was the present. Midday.

But if the temperatures were dropping this dramatically, it also meant they were closer to the Moonlight Kingdom.

He wondered how close they were to King's Peak. They were probably in the kingdom's territory already.

The wagon rocked back and forth, and he'd become familiar with its sway. Now that he was regaining consciousness, he could feel the lumshade starting to fade from his system, but now that his eyes were open, some of the dream he was having before was still carrying over.

Looking to his side, still on the bed where he was last, he saw a forest inside the wagon.

Instead of a person, he saw a panther, and he logically knew it had to be a person - or nothing, even - but he was so numb to feeling that he didn't even react at the sight.

It wasn't real. The fear was, but he'd stopped fearing the feeling of fear. He was just going to let it come and go.

"Butch, please slap that expression out of his face. He should know it's rude to stare at people like that," the panther said, but it sounded like Tula.

Still, he wasn't seeing Tula. Instead he was seeing the panther's mouth move. It was... disturbing.

Above him, a vine came down and slapped his cheek, and he winced, but didn't move.

"I don't know if he's back yet," Butch's voice came from somewhere around him, but James didn't see him.

"Maybe if you do it enough times, you'll slap him to sobriety," the panther said again, still in Tula's voice.

"Dumping cold water on him would probably work faster," Butch said to the air, but the vine slapped James again anyway.

"We're not in a rush, are we?"

Another slap. James's face fell to the other side.

"There you go. I think he's learned his lesson," Tula said again, her voice still coming through the puppet that was the panther. When James looked back at her, the panther swished its tail.

Well, Tula swished her tail.

He was seeing Tula. Just... with a tail.

Butch finally came into view, stepping back so he was sitting on a crate near Tula. He looked normal aside from the fact that vines were wrapped around his arms.

When did Tula and Butch start working together? James could hardly remember anything between his tongue being cut and the present moment. Maybe it had happened over the last weeks.

"I think that's just his face," Butch said. "Looks dumbly at you like that all the time."

Tula sighed. "It's too bad you can't fix that. Rita would never let us near him again, and you would no longer have the joy of slapping him."

Butch huffed in slight amusement.

James didn't know what he was seeing.

Was this real? Butch and Tula were two different types of crazy. It felt wrong to see them interacting.

As he did in most hallucinations, James decided to remain silent and wait this one out until things started to make more sense. And it seemed like Tula and Butch were on the same page.

He stared out at them blankly for some time before the forest started to fade. A few blinks finally got rid of the vines, the tail, and all the other things that didn't seem to make sense.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually, he was just staring at Butch and Tula. Just them, in the wagon, nothing else.

"Damn, he's creepy," Butch muttered.

"That's putting it lightly," Tula said with a click of her tongue.

"I think the lumshade made him worse," Butch said.

"Hmm. No, I think he's better like this. He's better when he can't talk," she said.

"I can fucking talk," James spat through his teeth.

"Oh, look," Tula said, sounding disappointed. "You slapped him to sobriety. Pity."

Butch sighed and got to his feet. The wagon creaked under the shifting weight.

"I can slap him back out of it," Butch said, turning towards James.

"Let's see what he has to say first. Depending on what he says, you may want to consider turning your slap into a punch," Tula said with a smirk.

"Already considered," Butch said, turning his flat hand into a fist.

"I don't think that's necessary," James said, already feeling the pain prematurely in his face.

"You don't get to decide that," Butch said, standing over him. But it was like he was waiting for something.

James had a feeling it was Tula's approval.

"See, I was thinking it would depend on him," Tula said as she kept her eyes on him, still with the devlish smile. "If he begs to not get hurt, I think you should consider showing mercy."

James shot Tula the briefest pointed look but his expression turned placating as Butch's eyes moved away from Tula back to him.

"Please don't hit me?" James asked with a weak smile.

Butch's mouth turned down in a scowl, but he didn't move.

"Please and thank you?" James asked again, his voice strained and his words sounding like he had a wad of cotton in his mouth, but just clear enough to be understood.

Butch's expression turned to mild disgust, and he turned away, stomping off to the opposite end of the wagon. He pushed through the dividing curtain and dissapeared.

"I'll be back later," Butch barked lowly, and James could feel the wagon shake as Butch jumped out of the back.

"I'm impressed he showed mercy. It's always nice to see people grow, isn't it?" Tula said, still watching James.

James's expression fell flat as he looked joylessly back at Tula, but he didn't have anything to say to that.

Tula didn't seem to waste the silence that followed, however.

"Why did you say that Rita doesn't like mages?" she suddenly asked, voice low and hushed now.

James stared at her.

It took a second for his mind to work through what was happening.

Has Tula actually thought about what he said over the past two weeks? And she was actually considering it? Did she actually believe him?

"Because I've seen her turn on mages before," James said quietly, though he struggled to get all the words out.

"Were they a part of the Blue Suns?" Tula pressed.

"At... one point, yes," James said.

"Why did she turn on them?" she asked.

"She'd been conning them the whole time," James said. "She only let them in to use them for their magic, and then she'd turn them in to the guild when she was done with them."

Tula was quiet now, finally tearing away her stare on him. If she had anything else to say, she didn't voice it.

The silence that followed was heavy.

James knew what she had to be thinking - or at least, rethinking. Hopefully, rethinking her idea to join Rita in the first place.

Selfishly, James wished he was a part of that reconsidering, but he knew that he wasn't. He had a feeling that there was nothing he could say to get Tula to believe he had any good will in his heart towards her, but if only there was something he could do. An action to put to his words to prove he actually wanted her to be safe and free.

Because he did, even if she didn't care for him to have the same. And maybe that was naive or foolish of him, and he could even hear Eve's words in his head telling him how that didn't make sense, and how he didn't owe Tula anything. But it wasn't about repaying debts. It was about doing what was right even if people didn't do the same in return.

But he had no idea how to prove himself. Not in his current state.

What could he conceivably do to protect Tula?

And then it occured to him.

He had plenty of time alone with Rita. He could just... ask her. Subtly, of course, but, he could do some digging on Tula's behalf to confirm if his suspicions were true. And even if Tula wouldn't believe his word on it, maybe there was something he could do. When it happened.

"I'm sorry," James said. To Tula, out of the blue. But not to him.

"Oh, shut up," Tula moaned, already shutting him down. "Butch is probably off punching a tree. He's going to be back any minute now. You're welcome for not telling him to beat the shit out of you."

"If you were still on Earth, and had never come here," James said, pushing to enunciate despite the pain it caused him. "But we'd all still disappeared. What would've happened to you?"

Tula stared at him again, still frowning with her still crossed. She didn't answer right away. "Unless the blame is cast on to me, nothing. I would still be tasked to find you," she said.

"And if the blame was cast onto you?" James asked.

"That wouldn't happen. But entertaining your hypothetical..." She slightly tilted her head. "I suppose I would no longer be their spy. I would be outcasted."

"That's the worst case scenario?" James asked.

"What do you want me to say? Death?" Tula said dully.

Sometimes - no, often - Tula could be so thick.

As if this question was about her.

James was wondering what could have happened to anyone else left behind. If there was anyone who suffered in his absence. He had a feeling Tula wouldn't know the answer to his true question, or it would just be brushed off and used for fodder to antagonize him later. He already felt enough guilt over everything that happened, and thinking about the storm he'd left in his wake only made the feeling worse. He didn't need Tula to heap onto that with her incessant nagging and cutting commentary.

"I'm just wondering if I saved you from a worse fate by bringing you here," James said, pretending that was all the question was about. "Or if it would've been better had you stayed on Earth."

Tula let out a mirthless laugh. "Oh, that's rich. You really think my life would be better here? No. You stole my career. Everyone I knew. My friendship. You've ruined my life."

"Well it's mutual then," James said. "We ruined each others' lives. What an accomplishment."

"I only ruined yours because you ruined mine," Tula sneered.

"So the whole thing where you captured me before, I almost watched Eve die, I escaped, and then you came back to make me kill her with my own hands-" James said. "That was all just... playing around?"

Tula rolled her eyes but then resumed her glare. "No. Don't you listen? I said you ruined my life."

"What, by showing up on earth? You think I had a choice in that?" James asked.

"No, you ruined my life by disappearing, you idiot," Tula said tiredly.

"So we're talking about the first time," James said.

"Oh, great," Tula said, voice thick with sarcasm. "There's a second time."

"I'm just trying to understand because even before I disappeared, back in those tunnels in the side of that mountain, you had already made my life hellish," James said. "And I know you were just 'doing your job,' but you realize your job was ruining my life before I even touched the quality of yours."

"Don't care. It's part of the job, sweetie. Don't take it personally," Tula said with a mockingly sweet voice.

"Oh. Yeah. Sure. And you know, you coming here? You magically appearing on Nye? That's not personal either. That's just magic,[i]" James said, his mouth throbbing with all of the talking, but he was too annoyed to stop now.

"Oh, what else are you going to tell me?" Tula said with fake enthusiasm. "Is the tooth fairy real, too?"

"You would dismiss a miracle even if it happened right in front of you," James said.

"The biggest miracle that can happen right now is if Butch came in and slapped you to sleep," she said, sounding bored again.

"Tula. Eve and I froze time during that ambush. We fucking [i]froze time. Time stopped, and you think that's anything short of a miracle? Things like that shouldn't be possible. And here you are on another planet and you haven't even begun to critically consider how the hell you even got here?"

"Gods," Tula groaned. "I liked you better when you were strangling me. Do I have to beg for it this time?"

James knew she would never listen to him like this. But was coming to realize she wasn't going to listen to him at all. So it didn't even matter, did it? He could say anything and none of it would pierce through her thick head.

He turned away and stared up at the ceiling.

"I wasn't going to do it, you know," he said.

"I'd ask you what you mean by that, but I frankly don't care," she said.

"I wasn't actually going to blind you," he said. "If I'd wanted to, I would have done it the first time."

"I know," Tula said. "And that's why you are so pathetic and weak. It's predictable."

"Takes one to know one," James said.

"I can't wait to turn you in. We're twenty days out now."

A pit formed in James's stomach again. But not just because he was thinking about his future to come, but because he was thinking about Tula's.

He knew Rita well enough to know... she was only using Tula for this. Someone with Tula's powers was useful, but he knew Rita could read people like she was looking through glass walls.

Rita would throw Tula away the moment this was over. He didn't know it yet in fact, but something in his gut told him that was the only way he could see things going.

And Tula was still under the presumption that Rita wanted to keep Tula around. She thought she could go through with this - going to King's Peak of all places as a mage - without it coming to bite her at all.

He glanced at her, feeling wholly sober now.

He took in a deep breath and tried to sit up, but his head began to spin. He steadied himself with his arms as he sat on the edge of the bed and his head started to throb.

He felt stiff and weak. How long had he really been in and out like this? Had it really been two weeks?

Looking down at himself, he could see how his loose clothes hung on him even looser.

Gods, he'd already lost so much weight. He ran his hand over his stomach, feeling the layer of healthy fat and muscle he'd gained in the mines already withering away.

And he wasn't even hungry. He didn't know the last time he'd eaten. He probably had. He had to have eaten something, but he couldn't even remember it.

Swaying with the wagon, he found himself feeling... disconnected from his own body.

Tula was still there, watching him, but he didn't bother to look at her. He knew what she was thinking without her even saying a word.

She found him pitiful, and she'd already told him dozens of times before.

As if he did this to himself.

He let his fingers run over his ribs, wishing there was more meat over the bone.

Yes. He did choose this. But it wasn't because he wanted it. And that was what no one seemed to understand.

James leaned over, feeling a wave of weariness wash over him.

He knew that Eve was still reaching out to him. She was still trying to find him. She would come for him, and she promised that, but he couldn't help but wonder if she'd make it in time. How was he going to get free once he was turned over to the kingdom?

He wasn't...

Eventually, Butch came back after things fell into silence. James didn't bother to look up and didn't bother to listen as Tula and Butch spoke idly. James sat with his head in his hands, trying not to let the sway of the wagon make him feel nauseas again.

He'd need another dose of lumshade soon if they wanted to keep him subdued, and particularly if they wanted to keep him from using his magic. As if an answer to his own assumption, it was only a few minutes later that the wagon came to a stop, everyone took a short rest, and the medic came in to give him another dose.

He was out for the rest of the evening. At least, he assumed it was only one evening.

When his eyes were opening again, it was dark, but the lantern hung on the roof of the wagon was lit, filling the space with a dim light that the curtains seemed to swallow up.

He was seeing waves of color again. The world around him seemed ever-shifting, like it was all liquid, flowing and shifting and melding together.

It felt like the wagon was still moving, but he had a feeling it was actually stopped.

James laid on the inside edge of the bed, leaving space for Rita on the edge. She was looking down at him, and James found himself wondering how long she'd been sitting like that, watching him.

That was, if she was actually there.

Like always, he chose not to react until he was sure it was real. Or at least, marginally sure.

For too long he merely stared back, eyes half open, as the world around her head kept spinning.

She reached over and tenderly brushed his hair aside with her fingers. It was an interaction he'd regrettably grown used to, and despite still having energy to spite her with his words, he'd lost the energy to spite her with action. He didn't know how many of these interactions replayed in his dreams and hallucinations, but he'd stopped reacting to most things, these days, unless a reaction was demanded with the threat of punishment.

So he just let it happen. She continued to pet his hair, looking down at him. Real or not, he didn't have it in him to fight it.

"It's a shame," Rita began to say softly. "A head of hair and a face like yours... wasted."

James wanted to believe that his subconscious wouldn't come up with something like this as some kind of twisted, uncomfortable, and unwelcome way of simultaneously complimenting and insulting himself.

This had to be real, then. Right?

"If only you'd have stayed a little longer in Goulon," she said. "When we first met. I'd have liked to keep you with me. It wouldn't have mattered if you were wanted. I'd have protected you, you know."

James had a feeling that Rita was aware he still wasn't fully there, yet. She was right, but it didn't mean he couldn't understand what she was saying.

She wished she could have kept him as her pet, still, then. Great. He loved being thought of as less than human. If only she'd stop petting his head like he was literally a lap dog.

"The Blue Suns... they're the only organized group that the kingdom doesn't have their iron grip on," Rita said. "I can slip out of anything I want. I would've been able to hide you."

And she still could, if she really wanted to. But--

"But then you had to kill two of my best men," she said. "And you know what? If you'd had come running back to me... I'd have made it all disappear. But you had to leave."

James blinked.

Hold on a fucking second.

This wasn't about two men dying? This was about him leaving? Leaving her?

"Rita," James said, not sure if he was hearing this right. "You let Hoss take me knowing he'd try to kill me."

Rita stared down at him, her expression turning to one of confusion, but her eyebrow quirked up, like she was intrigued.

"Now where did that come from?" she asked.

James stared at her, his response delayed in his confusion.

Was... was this real? Was he imagining it? Were they even having a real conversation? Was she even there?

Rita's lips parted into an amused smile, and she brushed her fingers across his cheek, looking at his lips.

No. This wasn't real. This-- this wasn't real. It was real.

He jerked himself upright, feeling his whole head begin to spin. He forcefully pushed Rita away as he scrambled to get around her, off the bed, onto the floor of the wagon, but she hooked her foot around his ankle. When she tugged, he fell to the floor with a thump, landing on his side. He groaned.

That hurt. That felt real.

His arm had been healing, but the force of the fall made it feel like a bruise. As if he didn't have enough lingering, still-healing bruises already. Practically his whole body was a sickly yellow-green, in the later stages of healing, but still tender all over.

"Gods, you're overreacting," Rita said.

James curled up into a ball on the floor, protecting his face in particular.

"Seriously," Rita sighed. "You're such a child. Just use your words if you don't want something."

Whether this was real or not, it was a nightmare.

He heard Rita huff in frustration, and, peering over his arms, he could see her get to her feet.

"Don't go anywhere," she said, and stepped over him as she pushed past, through the curtains.

She wasn't gone more than a second before the curtains parted, and she tied one of them back so the middle section was open. James couldn't see anything beyond it, but he had a feeling she was up to something. He just didn't know what.

He started to sit up, but she reached down and grabbed him by the shirt collar with both hands, pulling him up and throwing him back onto the bed.

It felt like he just woke up. Sobriety hit him like a wall of pain and exhaustion.

He stared up at Rita, watching as she stared down at him, sitting on the edge of the bed. She pulled out a syringe.

He stared at it, not recognizing the liquid inside. It wasn't purple. It wasn't lumshade. It was... a semi-transparent blue, and he didn't recognize it.

When he didn't extend his arm, she grabbed his wrist and yanked it towards her

"I thought we'd have a little fun tonight," Rita said, swabbing the crook of his arm.

That wasn't good. Fun to her meant pain for him.

Everything inside of him wanted to rip his arm away, but he didn't know what the repurcussions would be if he did. He already almost lost his tongue. He didn't want to break his legs.

So Rita stuck the needle in, right into a vein.

"It's diluted," she said. "So it won't kill you. But you'll feel it pretty quickly."

That did not comfort him as she emptied the contents of the unknown drug into his system.

For a split second, it was cold. Then, he felt a shot of warmth up his arm, and a warm, tingling sensation ran throughout his body. It was akin to sitting in the warm sun after getting out of a cold body of water.

But then he realized he couldn't feel anything outside of that. His body was very quickly going numb. And he couldn't move.

"It's only a temporary paralysis," Rita said. "I think."

But she never just thought. She knew what she was doing, and she was enjoying messing with him. Of course, now, it wasn't like she'd get any readible reaction.

He was stuck looking up at her. His eyes were already starting to feel dry.

"Doctors like to use this on patients," Rita said. "When they're doing painful surgeries."

She reached out and began to unbutton his shirt.

"I'm curious to see if it really inhibits all feeling," she said, her fingers working quickly. "So let's see what we have to work with."

She threw the sides of his shirt out of the way and went straight for the cut Tula had sliced across his chest several weeks back.

It'd been healing, but was still tender. It was entering the itchy stage of healing.

But as Rita pressed her fingers into the bandage over it, he didn't feel a thing.

"It's a shame you can't move, otherwise I'd tell you to tell me what you feel for posterity," Rita said.

Unable to even blink, James just had to take it. Her prodding and her commentary.

She seemed to quickly grow disinterested in the lack of interaction and response, and as if bored, she pulled out a small knife.

Great. He knew what that meant.

She traced her fingers over something, but he couldn't really see or feel what part of his chest it was. But he saw the knife go down, and she seemed to draw a deliberate line.

Gee, thanks for the addition, Rita.

She stared at her work for a moment, and then leaned back, tracing her finger over gods knew what else. If he had to guess, it was a scar.

"This one's from Butch," she said. "Isn't it? It looks like his."

Cool. Great observation. Thanks for noticing.

"And this one, hm," she said. "A stab wound from a curved blade, it looks like. Must've gone pretty deep."

James managed to blink.

Feeling. He was getting back some feeling.

"You've been stabbed a few times, looks like," Rita said. "I'm amazed you healed from them all."

Yes, yes, he'd been injured more times than he could count. Whatever.

He blinked again. He could feel his fingers twitch. There was something wet on his chest.

His own blood. But it was odd that the feeling of blood registered a split second before the stinging pain.

Feeling a rush of sensation returning, James decided he didn't care anymore.

He was just about to sit up when he felt a prick in the side of his arm.

"Not so fast," Rita said, emptying what looked like lumshade this time into his system.

He hoped the concotion inside of him wasn't going to kill him.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to your girlfriend first?" Rita asked. "Before I send you off to die?"

James furrowed his brows, but turned his head to the side... seeing Tula, poking her head out from behind the curtain.

Had she been there the whole time?

Whatever the two drugs in his system were doing, he didn't feel right.

He still didn't have full feeling back yet, and his body still felt heavy and sluggish. He could feel his head starting to swim with sleepiness, but while he was still awake, everything he was looking at started to shift again.

Tula's face, somehow, turned into Eve's.

He didn't know how to feel about that. But it looked wrong.

"Go on," Rita said. "You only have a few minutes left, if that."

James squinted at Tula, trying to picture Tula's face somewhere underneath. But instead, her hair began to grow out, straightening as it got darker and fell around her face - Eve' face. Her figure even changed, thinning out a little from what he could see.

So he was just looking at Eve. Except it wasn't Eve.

Still, he didn't know what his eyes said as he stared.

I miss you, wasn't enough words to fully express how much he longed to see her again. I love you didn't even begin to scratch the surface of how he would give anything just to hear her voice again - not just in a dream.

"Hm," Rita hummed, and then she grabbed his face, turning it to look at her.

At least, it was supposed to be Rita. But she looked like Eve too.

This was getting too weird.

James clumsily tried to reach up and push her hands away, but his arms felt like limp noodles, and they would not function like arms. Instead he merely flailed them against Rita's side, and they flopped back down.

So much for getting feeling back.

"You have no right being this cute while high off your ass," Rita said. Except her voice sounded like Eve's, which made things even more disturbing.

"No," James said, trying to roll onto his side as if he could roll away from all of this. "No."

His tongue did not feel fully functional for speaking words or stringing together sentences, but he tried anyway.

What came out was an incomprehensible string of almost-words, but even he had to admit he couldn't understand himself.

Rita sighed, and pushed James back onto his back, then looked over at Tula.

Of course, from James's point of view, it still looked like Eve looking at Eve.

It was surreal and disturbing.

Rita reached out and stepped off the bed for a moment, hand on the opened curtain.

"Thank you," Rita said. "You're dismissed now."

And the curtain closed.

It was an average day. Dull, uneventful, full of the same mundane, day to day tasks as most. Carter found himself in his study, looking over paperwork. At present, he found himself looking at plans for border enforcement in the kingdom alongside plans for monster control. Apparently things were getting dicey in the farming towns in the northwest again, except instead of goblin raiders it was monsters encroaching into farming territory, destroying crops and endangering citizens.

And he was in charge of signing off on how they divided their forces to help. He didn't care as much about keeping King's Peak an overpowered fortress as Blackfield did, but he had to be careful with how he deliberately thinned out their troops.

He wanted the ones loyal to him closest to him. Of course, loyalty was something that took time to build and trust to keep, so it'd been a years' long investment. It took him time to get enough influence so that he could sneak mages into his inner circle, and even longer to sow seeds of distrust in the system in a way that others wouldn't detect.

He was just waiting for the right moment to pull on his thread and watch it all crumble.

He made it to the end of the document and, after writing down some alterations, signed off. He set it to the side to prepare it for mailing later.

As he moved on to the next set of proposals he had to look over, he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said.

Looking up, he saw his assistant in the doorway.

"Alexander Kingsman is here to see you," she said with a bow of her head.

Kingsman. Now this was different. He'd sent Alexander off several months ago in search of the disappeared Mr.Hawke. Frankly, he'd assumed James to be dead at this point after over a year of nothing. But knowing that Alexander wasn't the kind of person to show up empty-handed, this could actually be promising.

"Send him in," Carter said, standing up from his seat.

His assistant nodded and briefly turned away, waving Alexander into the room.

He entered with a skip in his step.

Good news, then. At least, it'd better be.

Carter walked around his desk to meet Alexander halfway. They exchanged small bows, and Carter remained standing, looking to Alexander expectantly.

He'd convinced Alexander that they were friends, so he expected this to go longer than a quick update, but he didn't want it to go too long.

"What brings you to King's Peak?" Carter asked.

"I'd have sent you news by letter," Alexander started. "But I wasn't sure if it'd get to you securely."

Securely. There was nuance in that word. Alexander hadn't had issues sending letters in the past because he'd always used his own messenger bird and sent it off himself. Either something happened to the bird, or--

"With some collaboration," Alexander continued.

So other people were involved.

"I have finally found and captured James," Alexander announced. "He should arrive within two weeks at most. I can send word when we're a day out, but I wanted to get ahead of them to let you know personally so we can arrange a meeting place to deliver him into your custody."

Alexander grinned, waggling an eyebrow.

"Your personal custody," Alexander said.

Alexander was always making it weird. At he always did, Carter merely brushed it off.

"That's excellent news," Carter said. "What companions have you aquired that have helped you accomplish this?"

"Well, it's a bit of an interesting story," Alexander said. "This was what was difficult to put into a singular letter."

Carter doubted it was impossible to write in letter form. What he did believe was that Alexander was afraid of how Carter might respond, and perhaps, thought his reaction would be easier to control if he was there in person to feel it out and do damage control on the spot.

Carter put on a calming, reassuring smile.

He would take the time for this.

"Let's sit," he said, gesturing to two sitting chairs in the corner of his study.

Alexander nodded and joined him, and the two of them sat, seats angled towards each other. Carter noticed Alexander's nervous tick of twitching his foot was acting up.

"So I'd been looking for James for months, you know," Alexander said. "Lots of sightings dating back to exactly a year and two or three months ago, but absolutely nothing after that. I'd learned that he'd been in the company of the Blue Suns for some months before his abrupt disappearance, and apparently he killed two gang members in his wake. This was right before he seemed to fall of the map."

Interesting. Carter didn't see why this was relevant, but he was sure it was building up to something.

"So James is missing for a year. About a year exactly, right? And the last time he was seen was in the Outlands, but we're talking the southern Outlands. Amazingly close to kingdom territory, too, but just in the care of the Suns, which is probably the only reason he wasn't discovered, since his face is like, infamous anywhere near there," Alexander continued.

"Then a year later he's spotted in the far north of the Outlands in some tiny bum town called Sticks by a sun, and that puts him back on the map for the world's largest criminal organization," Alexander said. "And also for me. But also for this completely random woman named Tula."

Carter listened. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

The Blue Suns wanted their fair share in revenge for the two men James killed. Alexander probably had to come to a deal to work with them in the first place.

But he had no idea who this Tula was.

"She's a big of an oddity," Alexander said. "Completely obsessed with turning James in, totally devoted to the cause, but incredibly strange. I don't know how James got on her bad side, but she put together this mish-mash group of two bounty hunters, myself, and her friend who -- well, that's a story for another day. But we didn't get very far before the Blue Suns intercepted and recruited her and us, and so we all worked together to catch him."

This seemed like it would be the natural end to the story. Sure, Alexander could embellish the details of how, but it felt like they'd reached a conclusion.

But Alexander wasn't done.

He pointed at Carter.

"But here's the kicker. We didn't even catch him," Alexander said.

Carter narrowed his eyes, trying to follow.

"He walked straight into our camp and turned himself over," Alexander said.

Carter hummed.

"We'd captured two of his friends and we'd been torturing them for a week," Alexander said. "No contact with James at all, mind you. We'd just been holding them thinking, you know, if James's friends were here, surely he was nearby, right? He'd come looking for them."

Alexander leaned forward in the chair, gesticulating expressively.

"But how did we even know they were his friends, you ask? How did we know who he was even traveling with? How did we know what area to look in? How did we know where he might be, or what he was up to? Who had that kind of intel when everyone else looking for him had been searching for a year and come up with nothing?"

Compelling questions, sure. Carter merely waited for the answer.

"Apparently, Tula seemed to know everything," Alexander said. "She knew what direction he was traveling, who he was with, and claimed it was because she'd been with him before he allegedly backstabbed her. But--" Alexander paused to laugh.

"There are so many weird holes in her story," Alexander said. "No one really knows where she's from, and sometimes the questions she asks just make you think... who even is she? Does she not understand the world we live in? I don't know. Maybe she has brain damage."

Alexander laughed off his own joke and leaned back into the seat.

"So, back how we found him, right? Tula kept insisting - as we're torturing these two random guys we found in the wilderness - that James was coming. He'd find them. He'd come to save them for sure. And we're all like, alright, sure. We'll wait it out for a bit and see if her crazy claim is true, because it's not like we have anything else to work off of at the moment, right? But none of us thought it'd actually work. Honestly, I was waiting for Rita to snap and tell Tula she was done with all her stalling.

"But then, one morning, out of the blue, here comes James, walking into the camp looking haggard, exhausted, and godsdamned out of his mind like he's been haunted by something for years, and listen. This is what was weird and unsettling--"

Alexander leaned in again, locking eyes with Carter.

"He didn't react, okay?" Alexander said. "He didn't react to the sight of his friends being held captive. He didn't look surprised. He didn't look concerned, even. He looked like he'd seen it hundreds of times before to the point of being completely desensitized, and instead of rushing to his friends or even coming in full of worry and confusion, he walks right up to Rita like he's already come to an agreement with her and says he's turning himself in. Now, understand, none of us have told him that's even necessary. No one's even begun to list, you know, demands and terms for exchange. Either he just assumed, and maybe saw us all from afar - which you know is unlikely with his poor eyesight and, hell, we also had dogs who sniffed him out and started barking when he got even a little bit close, before he could've even seen us - or he knew what was happening before he got into that camp."

Alexander stared into Carter's eyes intensely.

"So how did he know?" Alexander asked.

That was something Carter didn't have an answer to. But he was thinking.

"Oh, and here's the best part," Alexander said. "You thought that was weird. Well guess what? Tula claims that James? Is a mage."

Carter didn't outwardly react, but he stared at Alexander, expecting more.

"And not just any kind of mage. One of the rarest kinds. A time mage," Alexander said.

A time mage. No. That was ridiculous. James had never shown any magical potential as a child, nevermind his teen years, or even early adulthood. All of the formative years when children were supposed to show magical abilities had already come and gone, and Carter had been there for it all. Surely, Carter would've noticed something, right?

But... if it was time magic... that would be the one magic that wasn't easily detectable.

No. It was was still a preposterous accusation.

But... would it explain how he'd survived so long? How he'd - as rumors told it - escaped so many impossible situations? All this time Carter thought James has just been insanely lucky. James had always had an intense survival response, so Carter didn't put it past him to come up with something in a pinch to get out of tough situations, but... if magic was involved?

No, no, no. Carter needed time to think about this.

"Did she have any proof?" Carter asked.

"Well, she didn't seem to fully understand James's magic, to be honest," Alexander said. "She brought up some examples of how James had escaped things where he should've died, like uh, one of the bounty hunters with us -- Butch, that big guy. You remember hearing about him, yeah? Almost died in the river but washed up and survived because he's fucking built like a bear. Anyways. She kept listing times James escaped impossible situations and said it had to be magic. So, just to be safe, we've been dosing him with lumshade pretty consistently. Which, as you know, was already part of the plan just to keep him incapacitated, but it's proven to be useful for this too. Not that we have any way of knowing if Tula's right or just crazy."

Carter was still digesting this information as Alexander went on.

"Oh. And, hah, you'll find this funny, I think," Alexander said. "So, Rita - you know, the head of the Blue Suns? She's got this... weird thing for James. Strangest love-hate thing I've ever seen. But it's so funny when James's partner comes up. She gets like, jealous. I don't know what her deal is, but it's hilarious."

Carter raised a brow.

"James has a partner?" he asked.

Partners were always good bargaining chips. People would do anything for people they loved.

"Yeah. Some woman named Eve. Or Evaline. I don't know which it is," Alexander said. "I think Eve's her nickname. Butch said James was travelling with her, like, six years ago. But there were a few years where she wasn't seen or heard from while James was still spotted around the globe. So I don't know. Maybe they separated for a time to protect her or had a rough patch... I don't know. But she said that like, Eve would 'come for him' or whatever."

Alexander wiggled his hands in the air, rolling his eyes.

"I don't doubt the woman's real, mostly and only because Butch was able to confirm her existence," Alexander said. "And he's a little crazy like me, but at least he feels grounded in reality. So I'd take his word for it. But anyway. We haven't heard from or seen this mysterious 'Eve,' but apparently she's a time mage too. Which is convenient. Tula thinks that when she and James are 'working together' that their magic is 'unstoppable' and that's why we had to keep moving as fast as we could so she couldn't catch up. Something ridiculous about freezing time."

Alexander guffawed.

"As if that's real!" he said through laughs.

But Carter didn't laugh.

This was, indeed, a nuanced, bizzare situation. All of the strings seemed to be connected between Tula, James, and Eve.

"Oh, oh," Alexander said. "One last thing. Rita told me to tell you that she's turning Tula over into your custody too, when they get here. I can tell you now that Tula won't see it coming, but Tula definitely is... well, so Rita already told me she's a mage. Which explains a lot, honestly. Apparently Tula told Rita that Tula's power is she can, like, see through people's eyes or make them see through hers. But only if she's met them before. So she can't do it to complete strangers. Apparently there's a limited range for like, how far that power reaches, but I don't know what it is. Anyway. The thought of that is terrifying, but also, hey, that's a new one, huh? Never heard of that kind of magic before."

Alexander clearly had weeks to process this information. But for Carter, this was all new. He remained silent as he leaned his chin onto his fist, and his elbow on his knee.

"Anyway. So that's apparently how James knew everything before he showed up," Alex said. "Tula had been communicating with him for like, a week or something. Basically the moment that we captured his friends. And I think Rita's been having her send messages to Eve, too. Which, to be honest, isn't that smart, but I think she's doing it because she's got that weird jealousy thing going on. Lots of extra drama, you know."

Carter sighed.

Was there more?

"I'd be wary of Tula, though. With that kind of power and how petty she is, she'd definitely try to use it to spite you," Alexander said. "Maybe you should have someone else there to take her in, now that I think about it. Instead of doing it yourself. Just to be safe, you know. Just a thought."

Carter nodded slightly.

"Right," he said, even though he hadn't fully thought all of this through.

"But, oh, right. Back to my first point. We need to arrange a meeting place," Alexander said.

A meeting place. Carter could start there.

He took in a deep breath and sat up straight again.

So, this wasn't going to be that simple, was it? He was going to get James, not just a traitor and a former friend, but also a possible time mage. And he was also getting a woman with strange, invasive magic who also sounded mentally unstable.

Great. How exciting. At least his reunion with James would be interesting. He had a few more questions for him, now...

"Right," Carter said again. "Let's discuss our plan moving forward so you can get back to the others and make sure it."

The next several days went by fairly quickly. The underground base they stayed in was nice, but honestly, Alistair was already itching to leave. Hendrik being in the same room was so aggravating. He chatted nonstop, continually asking everyone invasive questions, but mostly targeting Alistair and Clandestine.

Makiel seemed to be off the hook on this one, probably because he was better friends with Hendrik. That and Hendrik had generally gone easy on him since they all started traveling.

They were on the road again.

It really wasn't that bad. Alistair was still nervous about the idea of Nye and more powerful magic, but he was growing used to it. Being in a different environment helped too.

He surprisingly became to be food friends with Clandestine. She was a little annoying at first, but she was relatable and a constant warm presence. Or maybe that was just her magic. He was sure that was a part of it.

She helped him get better at his magic too. He didn't warm up to the idea at first, but the closer they were to getting to King's Peak, the more Alistair realized that this was something he needed to do.

Fire magic would be the best way to defend himself, and he should learn now while they still had the time. Plus it was way easier to learn from Clandestine than it was to learn from Garrik. She was a lot more encouraging as well.

For the most part, he found himself spending most of his time with Clandestine, but of course he saw everyone frequently. It was hard to not spend time with others when he often slept five feet apart from everyone.

Bo started to pair the two of them to keep watch at night more. He must have noticed that they were decent friends and figured it was a good night watch combination. Either way, Alistair didn't mind it.

Although he admitted that keeping watch with Clandestine was much more distracting. But Alistair didn't need to be so diligent every second of the night, anyways.

They were paired together again one night. He piled his blanket and pillow on top of his bag, setting his head down so he could lay down at an angle. With his free hand, he tossed a ball into the air, catching it and throwing it back up in repeat.

It was Elias's ball that he stole several weeks back. It was so loud and annoying when he'd throw it at night to entertain himself, so Alistair figured he did everyone a favor by taking it. Fortunately, Elias never seemed to notice he took it.

"What if it falls and hits your face?" Clandestine whispered.

"Luckily for me, I have great coordination," Alistair said as he focused on the ball. "I'd toss it to you, but it might hit your face."

"Hey," Cladestine said. "I've got better coordination that you, Mr. Fart face."

Alistair glanced her way, unimpressed. After catching the ball, he then tossed it her way to challenge her words.

She caught it, and then tossed it back immediately. Alistair was quick to catch it, then tossed it her way again. They went back and forth, entertaining this impromptu game of catch.

"Okay, you have good coordination. And you're a monster hunter. Yet you fall up the stairs. What gives?" Alistair said, still focused on the ball. He had to sit up for this.

"When my brain is at rest, my coordination is at rest," Clandestine said.

"Right," he said. "So your brain is not at rest right now?"

"No," she said. "I'm on watch, silly. I have to be alert."

"Right," he said again, tossing the ball. "We should stop throwing this."

Clandestine caught the ball, and instead of throwing it, placed it beside him.

"Bored already?" she asked.

Alistair sighed, laying back down on his bag again. "No," he said simply.

"What if we played catch with fire?" Clandestine asked. "That'd be more exciting."

"Yeah, no thanks," Alistair said. "I'd rather live today."

"Pff," Clandestine grinned. "It's not that hard. It's like tossing a ball, it's just on fire."

"Oh, sure," he said sarcastically. "It's that easy."

Clandestine shrugged.

"Maybe someday you'll be a master at it," she said. "You never know."

"Yeah, maybe..." He glanced at her. "How did you get so good at your magic, anyways?"

"Oh," Clandestine said, looking to the side. "Well. Practice had a big part to play in it, for sure. I've kind of always had, uh, powerful magic. But not always the control to hone it in."

"But who taught you?" Alistair asked.

Clandestine smiled, looking wistful off into the distance.

"Mostly my mentor, Silva, when I was a kid," she said. "She taught me monster hunting, too."

"Hmm. Where is she now?" he asked.

Clandestine's smile faltered.

"Uh," she said. "Dead?"

Alistair hesitated. He didn't know what he expected, but he didn't expect that.

"Oh," he said. "Uh... sorry."

"I mean, she's been dead for a long time, now," Clandestine said. "So, uh. It's not like it's fresh or anything. Still sad, but, uh. You know."

"Yeah. I don't think it matters how long someone's been gone. It still hurts all the same," he said.

"Yeah," Clandestine said, pausing for a moment as she looked at him, like she was trying to see if she should say more.

"Do you miss her?" he asked for her.

"I do," she said. "She was... my only family, really. I mean, the closest thing I had to it, anyway. I never really knew my real family. I was taken in by Silva when I was too young to even remember them."

With the sudden turn in conversation, Alistair was now giving her his undivided attention, sitting up straight again.

"How old were you when she passed?" he asked.

Clandestine opened her mouth slightly, her brows pinching together as she seemed to have trouble remembering.

"Uhhhh..." she started, looking to the side. "I was, uh..."

Alistair stared at her, not sure if he should be bracing for her to say that she was really young, or if he should be suspicious that she was struggling to answer what he thought was a basic question.

"I was. Well. Somewhere between 16 and 18 probably. I think. I can't know for sure," she said.

"Well... That's still pretty young. The years can start to blend together," he said.

"I mean, it's more that, like, I wasn't, uh. There when she died. I heard about it after the fact," she said.

"Oh," Alistair said. "You heard the news sometime in your teenage years, then?"

He wanted to make sure he was following.

"Well. I didn't hear about it until I was, like, 20," she said.

Alistair gave her an odd look. She kept changing her age.

"How long ago was that?" he asked instead, re-framing the question.

That question seemed to make Clandestine even more awkward. She made a face, pulling the corners of her mouth back in an exaggerated frown, but it was more of a silly face than anything. Though it didn't look like she meant it to be silly.

"So uh, um, it's complicated," she said, and then turned to face him with sudden intensity, reaching out to grab his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes.

Alistair tried to lean away. "Are you... are you okay?"

"You can't tell anyone else about this," she whispered, not letting go. "Not even Bo! I'm not supposed to tell anyone, okay?"

"What are you even hiding? Your age? Why would he care?" Alistair asked.

"SHHHHH!" Clandestine whispered, putting her finger over his mouth. "Keep your voice down!"

Alistair stared at her finger over his mouth, going cross-eyed for a second as he ignored that her shushing voice was a lot louder than his.

Honestly, he was just so confused on what was even happening. What did he say to warrant this reaction from her?

Clandestine pulled her hand away but didn't let go of his shoulders.

"I am secretly a lot older than I look, okay," she said. "But it's complicated! I was locked away in a magical coffin for most of it! So like, mentally I'm about as old as I look. But I've existed for almost 100 years!"

Alistair stared at her blankly, not even sure how to react.

"I know it's weird, okay!" she whispered. "Don't look at me like that."

"If that's true..." he said slowly, still staring at her. "How are you not dead?"

Clandestine pulled away, finally, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, that's the part you have to promise not to freak out about," she said.

"Great. As if I'm already freaking out that I'm talking to a hundred year old mummy," he dead-panned.

Clandestine pointed at him and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Watch it," she said. "Respect your elders."

Alistair sighed. "What is it?"

Clandestine's squint faded as she slouched her shoulders and scanned the camp, doubly making sure no one else was awake. Then she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"I'm a dragon," she said, then pulled away.

Alistair still stared at her, not reacting. How was he supposed to react to that?

"A... dragon," he said, only mouthing the word 'dragon' out loud.

"We shapeshift like -- like werewolves do, okay?" Clandestine whispered. "That's why I look like a human person."

Alistair glanced back at the camp. No movement. He kept his voice to a hushed whisper anyways, having to lean in closer since Clandestine seemed adamant that they talk in hardly audible whispers.

"So you're a 100 year old shapeshifting dragon who woke up from a magical coffin," he said slowly, summarizing her words.

"Yeah, thanks for nutshelling that real quick," Clandestine said flatly.

Alistair still stared at her, unimpressed and confused. He couldn't tell if this was real or a joke, but he had a feeling that the reality was as dumb as it sounded.

"Okay, so..."

He tried to form words. None came up. How was he supposed to follow-up to that?

"Don't tell anyone," Clandestine repeated.

"I think even if I did, no one would believe me," he mumbled.

"Good," she said. "But you won't tell anyone. Right?"

Alistair sighed. "I won't tell anyone," he repeated. "But..." he squinted his eyes, pulling his lips back to express doubt. "A dragon?" he said, his whisper breaking up a little from the higher-pitched voice.

"You don't believe me?" Clandestine asked.

"I also don't really know much about dragons," Alistair admitted. "But I thought they were basically gods."

"Well sorry to disappoint you but we're just normal people with too much power," Clandestine said. "Terrifying, I know, but it's true."

"Hm," Alistair hummed. "And your other form...? You said you... shapeshift?"

Clandestine hesitated.

"...Yeah," she said. "But I can't do it here, you dummy."

He sighed. "Alright. But, ah..."

He felt like he should be asking a lot more questions, but not many came to mind. Weirdly, he didn't doubt Clandestine. Some of it... tracked. It explained the background stories she said about herself. It explained her strong magic.

He thought it was more absurd that he easily believed her without all the possible skeptical questions he could have asked.

"Why are you keeping it a secret?" he asked instead.

"Because there are some crazy people out there trying to kill dragons!" Clandestine whispered. "And I don't want to die!"

Alistair glanced around the camp. "But we're not trying to kill you," he said.

"Yeah but information like this -- if it spreads -- you can't take that back, you know," Clandestine said. "And we're going into kingdom territory. What if some of us get captured? Tortured for information?"

Although Clandestine didn't dwell on it, Alistair was held up on the implications of her first sentence. She didn't want to tell the other trustworthy mages here because she was worried that the information would spread, but despite this, she trusted him.

She trusted him with this dangerous secret.

Alistair let that sink in.

He slowly nodded. "That makes sense," he said softly. "I won't tell anyone, even if... I get tortured for information."

Well that landed on a dark promise.

"Which wouldn't happen anyways, because you're a dragon," he reminded her.

"Yeah, I wouldn't let them take you anyways," Clandestine said with a grin, lightly punching his arm. "Unless they'd want to be eaten."

She paused.

"Don't uh. Read into that," she said.

"Gladly," Alistair said. He paused for a moment. "How does it feel? To be a dragon, I mean."

"Oh it's super stressful just existing in general," Clandestine said. "Imagine bearing the burden of existing even longer."

"How long do dragons live, anyways?" he asked.

Clandestine sighed.

"Hundreds of years," she said.

"Gods," Alistair said as he rubbed his face. "That's so old."

"But it means I'll look young for longer since I age really slow," she said.

"It also means that you get to watch everyone you care about die," he said flatly.

"Well, yeah I know that," she said quietly, looking away. "I... already know."

Alistair hesitated, looking back at her. "Sorry. That was crass. I'm just trying to... understand."

"I know," Clandestine said. "It's just... I'm still coming to terms with that fact. That I'm going to have to say more goodbyes in my lifetime than most people."

"Yeah..." Alistair said. "I'd say something comforting, but that just seems to be the grim reality of it. Sorry you have to go through that."

"Well, I mean... it's not all bad," Clandestine said. "It's not all goodbyes. It means I get a lot of hellos too."

She turned to him with a small, wistful smile.

"And I think that's a blessing I should count," she said. "That I'll get to meet a lot of great people in my lifetime too."

Clandestine was far more optimistic than Alistair was, but in this case, it was probably good that she thought like this. The knowledge of outlasting all of the people you cared about seemed to be too big of a burden to bear.

Alistair decided to drop the subject, not wanting to sour her optimism with his own cynicism.

"Well... I know you just revealed this big dark secret, and I think most people would ask you a lot of questions. But I don't really have any. Like you said, you're just a normal human with too much power," he said.

"Hah, yeah," Clandestine said. "I guess it's not as interesting as it sounds."

"That's just me. I think you're plenty interesting. It explains why you're not afraid of throwing your own fireballs," Alistair said.

"Well, being fearless isn't always a good quality," Clandestine said. "Sometimes a little fear is healthy."

"Would you say that you're fearless?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Clandestine said. "Weirdly, usually only in the face of monsters. I don't know. I just feel confident in that setting, I guess."

Alistair nodded, thinking about it. Clandestine was brave, but she still faced monsters she feared.

"What about you?" Clandestine asked.

Alistair paused to think about that some more, now in the context of himself.

"I don't know if fearful is the right word," he said slowly, pausing again. It took him a bit of time to land his next words. "I just don't want to be the hero."

"What does that mean?" she said. "To be the hero?"

"You know. Fighting for the common good. Always doing what's right, even if you're afraid," Alistair said as he twirled his hand in front of him. "Standing up for others. Fighting monsters. Stuff like that."

"Does doing that stuff make you a hero? Or... just a decent person?" Clandestine asked.

"People who are the hero often deal with more consequences," Alistair said. "I think a decent person who takes on more risk to help others could be considered a hero. It doesn't mean all decent people are heroes."

"True," Clandestine said. "Does that just mean you don't want to deal with consequences?"

"Yeah... well," Alistair began, not knowing how to answer that question without context.

He didn't really know how to nutshell this one, but... the night was long. Clandestine seemed genuinely interested. She would probably listen to his rant.

"I don't know if it's that. Maybe. It could be, but I was thinking it was more like..." Alistair sighed again, bracing himself for the explanation. "Honestly, I'm beginning to think that I'm cursed. The people closest to me always want to be the hero, but they either end up dead or become a changed person. It's not just that. I thought I could be a hero, but I've seen firsthand how little the reward can be. Firefighting, remember? Yeah, it's being a decent person, but I just think, sometimes, it's not worth it.

And I think it's a learned trait, you know? I had a brother. Twin brother. My dad is an abusive asshole who hurt my mom, but she didn't do anything until my brother stepped up to defend her. Ever since then, my brother has always wanted to be the hero. He always wanted to do the right thing, but then he died at eighteen - all because he was trying to help another person. I then dated someone years later and - okay, the relationship was not good and she treated me badly - but I found out that she passed away months after we separated. She was involved in a fight and tried to break it up. A heroic action. And recently - honestly, it wasn't that long ago - my closest friend passed away too. I still don't fully understand the cause or reason for her death, but she also had a good heart. She always wanted to help others. She always wanted to be the hero. And James is no exception to this either. We know what his heroic action led to and where he is now. He wanted to help others, but it came at a cost."

Alistair took a deep breath, trying to reign it all in.

"So, heroism. Everyone always talks about being a hero, but I don't think it's always a good thing," he finished.

Clandestine was quiet for a moment, and nodded slowly as she took it all in.

"You've lost a lot of people," she said softly.

Alistair hesitated, glancing at her. "Yeah," he said tiredly. "I'm tired of it."

"I can understand that feeling," she said. "It's... a different situation. But... when I woke up from my magic-induced decades year sleep - which wasn't really my decision at the time, but, that's not the point-- the point is, when I woke up... everyone I knew and loved was gone."

She paused, biting her lip as she seemed to bit back her emotions.

"I can't even imagine that," Alistair said softly. "How do you even deal with that?"

"I don't know," she said. "I think I'm still learning how to. For the longest time, I just felt so lost and alone... and I think I still feel like that a lot of the time. But... I think I'm learning that even though loss is inevitable, it's not really possible for me to carry on in the long-term if I isolate myself. There's something about helping other people that helps yourself. Because it reminds you the world is bigger than just you and your feelings. And that there are beautiful things outside of you to be experienced too, through other people. And... I don't know. I don't want to miss out on that because I'm too sad to let any happiness through. At least, not forever, you know?"

"But why do you have to help other people by protecting or fighting for them?" Alistair asked. "If you're happier being with others... why not simply stay with them?"

"Helping doesn't always have to look like fighting," Clandestine said. "But sometimes... there's no one else to fight for the people who need it. And it's not about my comfort anymore, you know? Because, I guess I just think... I've had people who've fought for me. I want to be that for someone else too."

"That sounds like an even bigger burden," Alistair said quietly.

"I don't feel like it's a burden," Clandestine. "Maybe caring can feel like a burden. But it's scarier to me to think about not caring at all. That seems like a dangerous path to take. For my heart."

"Well, would you feel any different if you're not a dragon?" Alistair asked, saying 'dragon' quietly.

"I don't think so," Clandestine said. "Because... even before I knew I was a dragon, I still had to decide what it was I was living for, you know? I think no matter how long you live, you still have to come to that conclusion eventually."

"What's your reason, then?" Alistair asked. "There's more to life than helping others."

"I think I'm living to experience the joy and beauty in everything," she said softly. "The big things. The little things. And sure, pain and loss sucks and it's unavoidable. But I think the bad times make me appreciate the good ones more. Like... I don't know. All those years of loneliness after I woke up... they don't hurt as much looking back knowing what I have now. I have Bo... I have you. And everyone else I'm still growing in friendship with too. Just, you know. Slower. And that's ok that good things take time to grow."

She paused, brushing a stray hair behind her ear as she sighed.

"I don't always like that fact. That things take time to grow. But I think the only reason some things are as good as they are is because it had all that time to develop. I'm talking about ourselves. Our relationships. I know it's not all gonna be easy, but I kind of want to stay around long enough to find out what good things I'll have in life in ten years. And in fifty years. Because if I don't... I'll miss it. So, to make a long answer short: I guess I'm living to discover the good in everything. And to enjoy that."

As she talked, a shiver went down his spine and goosebumps prickled his skin. Alistair couldn't explain it, but it felt like Clandestine had put into words exactly what he needed to hear.

He heard these words before. Over and over, his mother and brother would mention how beautiful life was and how excited they were to explore it.

But how long ago was that? Alistair couldn't remember.

Maybe, after all this time, he just needed someone to remind him of it.

Alistair was grateful for Clandestine's words, but he didn't know how to reply to that. He thought about expressing appreciation, but he knew that the "thank you for your thoughts" would come out sarcastic while also being stiff and awkward.

He nodded, taking his time to put together his next words.

"Well, I guess I don't have to worry about what happens when you continually choose to be the hero," he said. "You know, because you're..." A dragon, but he said that part with his hands instead. "And I think what you said is... well, I think it's nice."

He internally groaned. He wished he could say compliments without it being so awkwardly worded.

"I hope that, even if life gets tough or hard, you keep that viewpoint," he added on. "It's what makes you, you."

Clandestine grinned, looking off to the side.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Yeah... no problem," he said just as quietly, but he didn't know what to say next.

He probably should have said more. She just spilled a monologue about how she viewed life, after all. But then it felt like the moment's had passed to say anything else.

"So, uh--" Alistair began after clearing his throat. The silence felt a little awkward to him. "I also wanted to say thanks. For trusting me with, well... your life, secrets, all that."

"Thanks for being trustworthy," Clandestine said, offering him a small smile.

"Yeah... comes with the friendship," Alistair said a little smile as well.

"Yeah," Clandestine said, smiling brighter. "I guess it does."

The rest of the night went by fairly fast. They chatted the whole time, which was unusual since Alistair usually opted for silence when he grew tired. He was surprised just how fast their shift ended.

Clandestine really was a good friend. Or maybe it started to feel like that because he felt like she depended on him for something important. It did bother Alistair that his bar for friendship was apparently set so low, but that didn't change his perception of her. He was grateful for her all the same.

He did try to internalize the message she told him. Appreciate life, appreciate the people close to him, appreciate the experiences as they happen. Alistair made a conscious effort to spend a little more time with others, but for the most part, he didn't change his habits.

Good habits are formed slowly over time, anyways.

Some more days passed. He was keeping tabs of what day it was, crossing every day off the little calendar that Bo gave him.

It was the 10th day of Aurna.

At dinner time, Alistair took a bigger serving of food than usual. It was roasted rabbit with sauteed mushrooms, onion, and leafy greens. By this time, Alistair didn't really care if he was eating meat or not - he found it to be pretty tasty anyways - but he put less meat on his plate since it wasn't for him anyways.

Clandestine already knew what his plans were, but Alistair briefly reminded her anyways and then quietly ducked behind the trees to be by himself.

Elias enjoyed his time with Adina. He loved all his friends, but there was something different and nice about getting to know and explore someone who had no idea who he was or the context of his background. It felt like a clean slate. He felt a little like this with James, but even then, James was still connected with Eve.

But Adina? She was also friends with Eve, but it was different because she hasn't been to Earth.

He was probably overthinking it. She was just a really nice, friendly person.

At dinner, Adina said that she'd like to catch up with Robin. She said that he could sit in as well, but Elias knew it wouldn't be the same with him there. He understood that and thought it was nice that they were good friends anyways, so Elias made up an excuse saying he'd catch up with his friends too... which wasn't really an excuse, since it was the truth.

As Elias scanned the camp, Alistair walked right past him with his bag and a really full plate of food. He seemed hungry and... well, Elias didn't actually know. Focused, since he didn't even notice him ogling his plate before he disappeared behind the trees.

Elias was curious, but he didn't want to bother him since it seemed that he was on some mission. He glanced around the camp again, but after a few moments, he glanced behind him at the direction Alistair went off to.

He was going to let that lingering curious thought go, but then something grabbed his attention: the small ball that he lost last month was sitting there on the ground.

Elias squinted at it, having to do a double take. Intrigued, he scurried over to it and picked it up, spinning it in his hands. Where did this even come from?

Well, only one person walked in this direction.

After debating in his head whether he should follow Alistair or not, Elias finally gave in and weaved behind some trees. It didn't take him that long to find him. He didn't seem to care about distancing himself; rather, it seemed like he just wanted to be alone for a moment.

Alistair looked back when Elias loudly announced his arrival with his footsteps. His eyes naturally fell to the ball in his hand.

"I have no idea where that came from," Alistair said, already feeling the need to defend himself.

Elias held back a laugh, getting closer.

"Yeah. Crazy. Who knew that balls grew out in the wilderness?" he joked.

Alistair huffed some air through his nose and shook his head, focusing back on what he was doing. Elias didn't really know why, but he was separating his food to two plates. One was his plate, of course, but the other was a flat piece of wood with a partly curved lip. It wasn't really a plate, but it could pass as one.

"Whatcha doing?" Elias asked, standing nearby and watching as he finished dividing the food. He only put the vegetables on the wooden plate.

"It's the tenth of Aurna," Alistair said, as if that was supposed to hold all of the answers. He finished scraping off the last bits of sauce before resuming. "I did the math on converting that to our calendar." He paused again, still holding his plate but now looking up at Elias. "It's just a small tradition that I'm keeping up with my mom, especially since I won't be able to see her again. You know how she can be kind of... spiritual. Ever since Alan died, she offers food to him on his birthday. I know it's kind of stupid, but this doesn't really require that much effort. So..."

He got up, closing his bag and picking his plate back up.

"That's it. Just leaving food out for him. I'm sure my mom's doing the same thing too," he said.

"...Oh," Elias said.

That was kind of random, and he was not expecting that at all. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"You do this every year on his birthday?" he asked.

Alistair looked from the camp's direction to Elias. "Yeah?"

"Doesn't that mean it's your birthday too?" Elias asked.

Alistair pulled his lips back. "Another year around the sun. Exciting," he said, then paused for a moment. "Don't tell the others."

"Why not?" Elias asked.

Alistair stared at him, pulling his lips back some more.

Elias chuckled. "Fine, fine. I won't."

"Yeah... okay." Alistair looked back at the camp's direction. "I'm going to go back now. You can stay if you like. Or... don't."

"Oh, hah, yeah, I'll probably leave," Elias said with a faint laugh, scratching the back of his neck.

But he didn't move, mostly because Alistair hadn't moved yet.

"...Alright. I'll see you later," Alistair finally said, turning around and walking back to camp.

Elias watched him leave, not realizing how stiff his back had gotten. He forced himself to relax his posture and idly bounced the ball along the ground, watching it imprint little circles on the dirt. He then caught the ball and stood still as he gazed back at the food Alistair left behind.

It was just food, but something about it left a pit of dread in his stomach.

Elias paced around the clearing for a little while, trying to discern the racing thoughts in his head. He hardly ever had racing thoughts.

He kept switching between pacing, dribbling the ball, staring at the plate, and sitting in front of it, unable to completely keep still. In a desperate manic moment, Elias let out a deep, empty laugh and then reached down to scoop up the food with his bare hands, throwing it all in his mouth. Some scraps dribbled down his chin, landing back on the ground.

He felt like a crazy person eating this way, but this felt right.

Elias ate the food so fast, he barely had time to chew. He swallowed it all down, wiped his mouth and fingers on his clothes, then slowly sat up and stared at the empty plate.

"That's for all the times you've made me hungry," he said quietly with a childish stubbornness, then quickly turned around and walked away.

Another week passed.

It seemed that they all had a rhythm of routine now. It was funny to see how, in the beginning, it was just Eve, James, Elias, Elise, Mel, and Alistair traveling together. They still were, but they doubled in size.

And with that, everyone made new friends.

Elias and Adina were spending a lot of time to each other. So was Mel and Jordan, likely for the same reasons - although these two were much more explicit and direct in their relationship, whereas Elias and Adina still appeared to be friends. Alistair and Clandestine seemed to spend a lot of time together as well. Eve figured their friendship started because they were both fire mages, but it seemed to evolve from there. Even Elise, who had a history of being so busy with life that she hardly had time to maintain friendships, seemed to hover around Bo, Mel Aradis, and Raj.

It was a breath of fresh air to see her friends smile and enjoy the presence of others.

Of course, Eve had this thought while she was alone. It was just fitting, wasn't it, that James was the one missing from this group, so Eve often found herself alone?

She didn't really dwell on it. She spent most of her sane time with Elias, Adina, Bo, herself, and James's shadow that he left behind.

Even if Eve wanted to relax like the others had, she knew she couldn't. She couldn't when James was still trapped, hurt, and alone.

It helped to talk it out sometimes to Elias and Adina, but for the most part, she was content with keeping most of her thoughts in her head. They weren't that far off from from reaching King's Peak now. She was counting down the days, readying herself.

Eve had been mentally preparing her steely resolve, so it was almost laughable to see how different the other's attitudes were in comparison. If Eve were forced to be in charge, she would likely give everyone a grim and stark reality check sooner rather than later.

She didn't doubt Bo's leadership, though. He was friendly and even a little silly on the surface, but he was confident, steady, and consistent. He put on a charismatic friendly face to prevent fear and panic because that was what a good leader did. It didn't mean that he didn't feel the weight of the looming dangers. Eve noticed that when he thought no one was looking, he was often wore a serious and contemplative expression.

So she didn't doubt his leadership.

Still, it did make Eve a little uneasy that there were people in the group who didn't seem as serious about this mission. They were less than two weeks out now, after all.

They took a break on top of a small hill overlooking mountains in the distance. Bo pointed out which mountain they would be heading towards, giving them all the gist of what their travel would be like soon.

Colder. More grim. Darker.

Elias bent down and scooped Adina up so that he was carrying her on her shoulders. Adina yelped for a moment but it was quickly followed by laughter.

"There ya go. Is the view better?" Elias asked, carefully re-adjusting his position.

"Yes," Adina said, still laughing.

Traveling was going to be tougher. The air would be thinner and the nights would be longer. Eve mentally prepared for this and knew what she was signing up for.

She wished she knew that the others had, too.

They were traveling again the next day. Adina was catching up with Eve, telling her about how she'd never been this far south.

During a short bout of silence, Eve decided to ask her a question on a topic she had been avoiding with her.

"I noticed that you are getting close with Elias," she said, leaving it at that.

"Oh, yeah," Adina said, looking away timidly. "It's nice."

Eve waited for her to elaborate, but she seemed shy and didn't say much more.

"He seems to like you too," Eve added.

Adina kept looking off to the side with a shy smile.

"Yeah," she said airily. "I think so too."

Eve waited again to see if she'd say anything else, but then continued once more when she didn't, deciding to be more direct.

"It's always exciting to start something new," she said. "But just remember where we are. We're a little more than a week out from King's Peak."

At that, Adina's smile faded, and her expression grew more serious. But also sad.

She nodded quietly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the mood," Eve said.

"No, it's okay," Adina said. "I understand. I do."

She looked at the ground, kicking a small rock.

"I guess I just... was enjoying the distraction, you know," she said.

"I understand," Eve said. "And I wanted to tell you over Elias, because I think he's always enjoying the distraction. If you remind him as well, he'll better understand it coming from you."

Adina looked over to Eve, her eyes searching for only a moment before she looked away again, nodding.

"I haven't forgotten," she said. "I... I've thought about it every night, when I'm trying to sleep. I think about seeing James again. Wondering if he's even gotten any of our messages, or if he's..."

Eve held her gaze sincerely. "I do too," she said. "But you can leave the worrying to me. I want you to enjoy your time, of course. I trust you won't be distracted when we reach King's Peak."

Adina reached out and took Eve's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"I won't be," she said softly. "And... I'll try to remind Elias, too."

That was good enough for Eve.

She thanked Adina then dropped the subject, instead asking about the furthest places she had traveled to. That seemed to bring back the light in her eyes as they continued to chat.

Eve didn't really want the others to be as wary as her when it came to starting new relationships and friendships at a time like this. She just wanted them to understand and acknowledge the dangers that lie ahead.

Sometimes, it was hard to empathize when Mel continued to be awfully giggly and affectionate to Jordan in front of the others. But Eve held her tongue and didn't say anything yet, although she was tempted to say something many times. She knew that Mel would not take it well and become defensive.

Eve knew that because it happened before and it will happen again with Jordan.

That night, Eve noticed Elias and Adina having a deep heart-to-heart conversation. At least, it seemed to be that way since they were talking in low, hushed voices without smiles. It wasn't like she was eavesdropping, but she knew that Elias was bothered since he seemed to be quieter.

She kept the first watch that night and also noted how he seemed to turn and toss more, his thoughts keeping himself awake until he finally succumbed to sleep.

Eve decided to instigate first that morning as they got ready to move again.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Dumb question, but it was innocent enough.

"Oh... yeah, of course," Elias said with a smile as he rubbed his eyes. "Just tired."

"Something keeping you up at night?" Eve asked.

"Yeah. Just thinking about it all, you know. King's Peak. The cold. Just the usual," he said. "Hey, can you help me fold this blanket?"

Eve had a feeling there was more things bothering him than he was letting on, but she decided to drop the subject.

They were a week out now. Eve had been diligently keeping track of the days, but that night, Bo gave them all the same reminder.

"We'll be arriving at King's Peak within the week," Bo said, standing as everyone sat gathered around the fire. "As we get closer, we'll all need to be vigilant to lay low, be aware of our surroundings, and keep an eye out for danger. The area outside the city is often littered with scouts and we'll want to catch and avoid them as much as possible."

"As for the plan to infiltrate the city and rescue James... we'll have to assume that he was taken to the palace. Our information tells us that there are cells several floors deep under the palace where high profile prisoners are held with extreme security measures. If James was taken anywhere, it's likely he was taken there. It's our best bet. We'll have to gather information as we go, but we'll make it work."

"Here's the plan..."

For the next hour, Bo went into detail and answered many questions. His plan was to divide the group into three: one group stayed behind to keep lookout and be their quick getaway, the second group went into the castle but were tasked to create distractions and diversions, and the third group also went into the castle but were tasked to find James.

Makiel, Hendrik, Alistair, Jordan, Robin, and Adina were a part of the getaway group. Both Mels, Clandestine, Deidra, and Elise were a part of the distraction group. Eve, Elias, Bo, and Raj were a part of the rescue group.

There were some disagreements about how the groups were divided. Most of it came from Hendrik, who claimed that he ought to fight in the front lines, but Bo told him that they needed strong people in the getaway group as well. There was also disagreement about Deidra, since she still hadn't gained the group's trust. But Bo reasoned that they needed someone with her background and abilities, especially for Elise and Mel who would be focused on healing others.

Eventually, everyone agreed.

Eve knew a lot could go wrong. The whole plan could crumble if, say, the tunnels collapsed. Or if James wasn't underground at all. There wasn't even a way to know if they made it in time or not.

But Eve didn't want to voice any of her concerns. There was no use in souring their confidence with negative what-if scenarios.

At least, not yet. She'd want to have these conversations with Bo alone. Or at the very least, with Elias and Raj, since they would also be there with her.

She turned to study Elias. When asked about how he felt about being a part of the rescue group, he said he would try his best and give it his all. Still, she could tell he was nervous, and perhaps a bit confused.

Maybe he was surprised he was picked in the first place.

After they wrapped up conversations and got ready to sleep for the night, Elias (predictably) went up to her to ask her her thoughts.

"About what?" Eve asked.

"About everything," Elias said. "You always have thoughts about everything. I figure you have even more thoughts about this."

Eve unrolled her bedroll, thinking. "I think it's a fine plan," she said. "It's the best one we have. We'll all try our best, like you said."

"Right, yeah." Elias also unrolled his bedroll nearby.

"Are you nervous about being part of the rescue group?" Eve asked.

Without a pillow or blanket, Elias laid down with his hands behind his head, staring up into the night sky.

"A normal amount, I think," he said. "I'm a little surprised I was picked... but I'm glad I was. I want to help."

"It's no surprise to me," Eve said, still watching him. "Bo knows that you are good friends with James. He wanted to bring another familiar face. It helps that you have a military background."

"Yeah... true," Elias said, still staring up at the sky.

Eve took some moments to carefully unfolded her blanket and set her pillow down, but she gave one last glance at Elias, who still seemed to be contemplating something.

"Are you sure it's okay?" she asked softly, keeping it vague.

"Yeah. We'll be okay," Elias said as he turned to give her a little smile, rolling to his side. "Good night. See ya in the morning."

Eve stared at him for a few more seconds, but then decided to let it go, settling into sleep.

When Carter first met James, all those years ago, he'd thought nothing of it.

Back then, when Carter was merely 14, and James was 11, Carter didn't have many friends. He'd been isolated, mostly by his parents, living a dull life in his family's manor where he had private schooling and anything his heart desired. That was, anything but social interaction.

Carter had never planned on befriending the servant boy. And there was no way he could have in any way foresaw their mundane conversations as boys leading to the dramatic rift they had now.

Even after ten years of friendship, there were still things they didn't know about each other.

Like the fact that James was apparently a mage, for example.

Of all the information that Alexander relayed, that was the thing that disturbed him the most. All those years they'd done everything together, and somehow, James kept his time magic a secret from him.

There was, of course, still the issue of proof. Alexander's claim that James had any magic at all seemed to rest in the witness of a mentally unstable woman who was obsessed with his capture - and Carter still wasn't sure what to think of her, only having heard information second-hand.

But Alexander's warnings stuck with him. Carter was nothing if not careful, especially after the fallout with James. He'd determined from that point forward to anticipate any and all trouble - to trust no one but himself. Even his closest advisors and confidants he actively worked to control, determined to make sure he knew anything and everything about their motives and desires. He could never leave anything to chance.

Carter sat in his room, looking out his window, deep in thought.

Alexander would arrive tomorrow with James and Tula. At least, that was what he'd been told a week ago. He was still waiting for confirmation.

If something went wrong, that would be just his luck. James had evaded capture for six - almost seven - years. Of course something would come up.

Carter sighed, leaning on the windowsill as he looked down at the city from his view in one of the upper levels of the palace. Beyond the palace walls the city lights were growing dim as different neighborhoods gradually went to sleep. Main streets were kept alight by standing lamps, and what lingered of the former sunset was fading from the sky.

He did want to see James again. Not for old times' sake... but for closure.

Ever since James threw his life away, he became a stain on Carter's reputation. After everthing Carter had done for him, James threw it all away, and it was no secret that Carter and James used to be inseparable. James turning on the kingdom wasn't just about the kingdom. It was personal. James had forced Carter to choose.

And the truth was, Carter didn't care about the kingdom. Not in the same way that Blackfield did. He hated Blackfield, and he hated the guilds, and he hated that a whole kingdom had been built upon the bodies of fallen mages - that that was the foundation of Blackfield's power. He was a leader that had risen out of war and was too greedy to let go of the power he'd obtained and would do anything to secure it.

The problem was that Carter didn't disagree with James. The kingdom was corrupt, and so was the king. But Carter was playing the long game, and James was an idiot if he thought one impulsive heroic act would make a difference. All it did was ruin his life.

And all that made James now was a loose end. One that Carter was hoping to finally cut off soon.

James's existence was inconvenient. Yes, he'd become a face that the kingdom could weaponize for more propaganda, but that was about all he'd been useful for. But seven years was a long time, and having a criminal run amok for that long did more damage to the kingdom's reputation in the long run.

Not that he cared much for the kingdom's reputation, but Carter's reputation was directly attatched to it now that he'd been the King's Hand for the last few years.

A knock at the door broke Carter from his thoughts.

He turned and strode to the door quickly, opening it a crack to see who was there.

"A message for you, sir," a soldier said, offering him a rolled-up letter.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Aimes," Carter said.

He took the letter and they both exchanged quick nods before he closed the door.

Carter latched the lock before he turned and opened the letter as he walked across the room. He stopped by the candlelight on his desk and read.

It was Alexander. In too many words, he informed Carter that everything was going according to plan. They would meet him tomorrow. There were no issues.

Pleased, Carter folded up the letter and tucked it away in his desk.

Now, he could rest well in knowing it would all soon be over.

"She's going to turn you in," James said in a brief moment of clarity.

It was midday. At least, James thought it was midday. At the very least, it was daylight, but he couldn't say what kind of daylight it was. Perhaps it wasn't daylight at all. Maybe Tula wasn't even there. But he'd told Tula twice before, only to realize that it was only a dream or a hallucination, and he had to try again.

They were getting close. He didn't know how close anymore, but he could feel it. He could sense the anticipation in everyone's manner. He could see it in their eyes.

Everyone was just waiting for the day this was over, when he was gone.

"Shut up," Tula said with a snarl.

The wagon rocked, and James stared, unfocused, in Tula's direction. Everything was blurry. James didn't know if this was a hallucination issue or a decaying eyesight issue. It could've been a third thing, but he couldn't think through any more possibilities with how clouded his head felt.

It felt like there was a weight on his skull, holding him to the ground and keeping him from having more than one coherent thought.

He fought to remember. To remember something.

He knew he'd spoken with Rita. Perhaps it was last night. Or the night before. Or the night before last. But he'd known it'd been real. He knew it because it was the only night he'd ever intentionally engaged Rita in conversation before she drugged him. He'd finally decided to play into all of her heavy hints so he could get information out of her. And she had told him what he was looking to hear. She'd confirmed what he'd suspected all along.

"Tula?" she'd laughed. "Honey, King's Peak will be the last stop for you both. Maybe that'll give you some consolation, after everything she's done..."

"At King's Peak," James said, lying heavy against the bed, eyes barely open.

It was a fight to stay conscious. He was coming down from the high and the sedative but the lumshade was still in his system.

"You have to believe me," he warned desparately. "You don't have time to wait."

Tula scoffed. "I think you mean you don't have time to wait. Only a few hours left until I'll never have to talk to you again."

Nothing was working. There was no way to get through to her.

He fell silent, feeling the hopelessness he'd been desparately fighting for weeks finally begin to set in.

She was right. In only a few hours, it would all be over for him, and none of this would matter at all. It would've all been for nothing, and it would've all been his fault. And he couldn't bear to think of everyone he was leaving behind. Even the start of the thought made his heart physically hurt more than all of his wounds combined.

He gave in, and stopped fighting the lumshade. Like a wave pulling him under, it drew him back into a restless sleep.

He didn't come to again until he was lifted from the bed.

People were talking. Voices were overlapping with one another, too distant and unclear to understand.

Someone was carrying him, holding him under his arms as his feet dragged behind him. Through cracked-open eyes he could see the dirt under his feet bare feet. The earth was cold, and there was a bite in the air. He couldn't remember if he'd had any more layers of clothing, but now his clothes felt paper-thin as the cool evening air pierced through them.

His arms and shoulders began to ache from being dragged, and finally his eyes began to focus as the fog began to disperse from his mind.

Butch was carrying him. They were outside, stopped on the edge of an overgrown dirt road.

He knew this road. He'd walked it before.

It was just outside King's Peak.

The forest was thick around them. The tall treetops cast dark shadows amidst the fading evening light.

All of Rita's men were gathered behind them. Rita stood just ahead of him, and Tula stood beside her. James stared ahead at the small troop of kingdom soldiers that stood alert, at attention. He recognized some of their faces. He knew some of their names.

They used to be friends. Colleagues.

One of them had a crossbow trained on him.

The woman standing in front, facing Rita, was one he remembered from school. Her name was Ingrid. Once, they'd worked side-by-side in the palace.

Now he was being handed over to her as a criminal.

James finally found his own footing, holding up his own weight as the world seemed to grow smaller around him.

The conversation that followed felt distant, like he heard their words delayed.

"The payment," Rita said.

Two soldiers carried a chest over, and two of Rita's men took it, hauling it to Rita's feet. They opened the chest to reveal mounds of shining gold.

"Just as was promised," Ingrid said.

She hadn't even looked at him. They were strangers, now.

Rita waved for her men to carry the chest away and then turned to look back at James.

There was a glint in her eyes, like she was savoring this last moment.

James, however, found his focus resting on Ingrid. Though he knew it was never in a soldier's nature to let their gaurd down, something in James's gut told him that Ingrid wasn't just on high alert, but she was waiting for something. Or waiting to do something.

Ingrid and Rita exchanged a brief, quiet glance. James saw Ingrid's hand move up to make a signal before it was made.

Just before she did, though, Ingrid's eyes ever so slightly flicked to Tula.

He knew what was happening.

For a moment, it was as if time slowed down.

Adrenaline shot through him, and he ripped himself out of Butch's grasp. He saw Ingrid's hand go up, pointing at Tula. He saw a soldier, in the back of the group, silently pull out a dart-blower, aiming it right at her.

It was like the dart waited for him.

Right as he threw himself in front of Tula, he felt the dart pierce his chest.

For a moment, he stood frozen as Ingrid and Rita both stared at him in shock, eyes wide. There was a split second where James realized everyone was surprised, and instead of staying in it, he turned around and pushed Tula to break her from her frozen state.

"Run!" he shouted.

Tula didn't waste any time. She only had a few seconds of a head start, but she moved fast, practically flying down the incline road before ducking into the trees.

"Get her!" Rita yelled, and several of her men went scrambling after Tula into the forest.

But James could feel his consciousness fading.

His heart was racing rapidly. There was a pain in his chest as he felt himself sway, and he fell backward.

Nobody caught him.

More people were shouting. More people were running. Footsteps thumped beside his head, and he stared up at the sky through the trees for a moment, watching the clouds snake through the almost-clear sky.

It was a beautiful sunset.

The last one he would ever see.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Tula ran down the hill, her heart racing and vision blurring. She ran so fast, she could hardly see the outlines of the trees she passed. She didn't have time to process. She had to run.

The soldiers and sun members may have been stronger than her. Tula didn't question that. She did question if they could catch her, though. If she was never going to overpower someone who weighed more than her, then she would focus more of her time and energy into tactics and agility. That was what she was trained to do.

And now her life depended on it.

Tula sped down the hill, not daring to look back. Her body was fueled by adrenaline. She couldn't think of anything else but to escape.

She just kept running. She ran and ran, letting gravity help ease her down the hill while she zig-zagged through the forest, trying to lose her captors.

Eventually the hill started to flatten out. Her legs were burning, but Tula kept running until she felt it was safer.

How much time passed? She didn't know, and she didn't care.

She needed a place to stay. A safe space.

Where the fuck was she going to find that? Past the forest, King's Peak was littered with scouts.

No. She needed an ally. She needed...

With a groan, Tula started to climb the nearest tree, jumping up high to grab the branch. She lifted herself up and climbed to higher branches until she was sure the leaves veiled her body.

This was a temporary solution. She just needed a few minutes to not have to worry about bumping into anything, or worry that some asshole was going to turn her in to the Kingdom. Because...

"Deidra, I know said I wouldn't reach out, but I'm running for my life here," Tula said with a strained hushed voice and a shrill laugh, peeping through the leaves. "Rita ratted me out as a mage. The Kingdom is after me now. If you have anything to say, say so now."

Tula ended her concentration of sending her sight to Deidra. She took a deep breath as she readied herself to peer into Deidra's vision.

She really didn't give her any time to process this, but time was of the essence here. Tula needed to know if she could rely on Deidra for an escape, otherwise she had to think of a different plan. Now.

"Gods, I hope you don't hate me so much that you'd rather I die at this place," she mumbled as she tightly closed her eyes and tried to peer through Deidra's eyes.

Deidra was staring out into a nondescript forest. But then she turned her head to stare at a man who Tula had never seen before. He was tall, like Deidra. They were almost eye to eye. Except, this man only had one eye, and three nasty scars where his other eye should've been.

"Tula is reaching out," Deidra said in a whisper. "She needs my help."

The man's expression was neutral. And then his brows rose slightly.

"What happened?" the man asked.

"The Kingdom's after her," Deidra answered.

"So they know she's a mage," the man said softly. He looked out past them. Tula could hear distant conversations, but they sounded too quiet and far away to make out.

"I'm going to help her," Deidra said firmly.

And at that, the man simply nodded.

"Does she need us to come to her?" the man asked. "Or can she come our way? Where is she?"

"I think she's near King's Peak," Deidra said.

"Then we'll go to her," the man said. And then he looked Deidra in the eyes.

Tula had a feeling this man knew of Tula's magic, and that he knew she was watching. It felt like he was looking at her.

"We'll find you," he said. "Keep in touch with Deidra."

"You're going to be okay. Hang in there," Deidra said.

And in those few words, Tula could hear in Deidra's voice that she still cared.

She sounded like she was holding back tears.

And that was sweet. Really, so comforting.

But not comforting enough to have her not panic over her current situation.

Tula dropped her concentration again, screaming more expletives in her head as she angrily bunched her hands in her hair, wishing she could scream.

Okay, great. Now what?

She took a deep breath, trying to not to lose it. It had been so long since she felt this anxious. This was awful.

"Deidra," she said cooly with a sigh, opening her eyes again to peer into the forest. "Thank you. But also, I have no fucking clue where I am. But we can coordinate. I ran down the hill. I know others are after me, but..."

Tula droned on, telling Deidra everything she knew. The path she took, the direction she ran from, and any other bits of information she thought would help.

This was going to be a long and dangerous night of cat and mouse.

Bo knew from the moment that Deidra looked at him that something was wrong. He hadn't been expecting it to be Tula reaching out for help, but it made sense.

Without Deidra there, Tula was on her own. She had no one else to reach out to, and it was inevitable that if she'd already been discovered as a mage that it was only a matter of time before she was turned in. Bo knew the story all too well. He'd heard of too many mages who'd been burned by the Blue Suns. The Suns always covered up their tracks so they could lure more mages in, but Bo knew the truth.

They were just like the guilds. They would do anything to deceive mages and trap them before they even knew they were trapped.

Tula, of course, had willingly aligned herself with these people with, at least at first, a singular shared goal in mind: to deliver James to the kingdom. She'd done many wicked things before and after to James and the friends in their group all unto acheiving that goal - but he knew anyone willing to stoop to those levels had to take some pleasure in it.

Tula didn't know what kind of company Deidra was keeping. Deidra had made a point to keep that a secret from her when she'd reached a turning point in her life to reconsider her path.

Tula was now at a turning point too.

Bo knew the others would not see it that way - and understandably so after everything Tula had done. They didn't owe her anything, and they'd already been hostile to the idea of Deidra being in their midst. He could only imagine how much greater the tension would be with Tula.

He had to take a breath to prepare himself for the chaos he knew was about to come.

"You don't have to come with me," Deidra said. "You have bigger things to worry about. You have to lead the rescue mission into King's Peak."

She was right. He did. But Tula did need a rescue as well.

"I know you're going to go to her either way," Bo said, and Deidra shied her eyes away, as if she was surprised to be understood. "I won't stop you. Go to her, and regroup with us after the rescue. I'll send Robin with you."

Bo believed in second chances. He believed in third ones, and fourth ones too.

Yes, showing mercy over and over opened you up to being hurt again and again. But he'd rather show mercy 100 times before escalating to a final punishment ending in death. It was never a linear path and it was almost never quick, but everyone was capable of change. Either they had to want it, or the right amount of pressure had to be applied in the form of various circumstances forcing them to grow... and people were far more likely to change for the better with a positive influence there to lead the way and set an example.

That was why Bo knew he needed to regroup with Deidra and Tula. First, to make sure they were both safe. And second, to be a compassionate presence to Tula in one of her most vulnerable moments. Because even if no one else thought she deserved that, it was what she needed.

Without having even met her, he felt compassion for her. That was something she likely wouldn't even see. And knowing her personality, might never even appreciate. But that still didn't change how he felt.

Bo got to his feet.

He and Deidra had been sitting off to the side, having their own private discussion before Tula had interrupted with her cry for help. Deidra was quick to get to her feet beside him, and she watched him expectantly.

"Are you going to...?"

"Tell them, yes," Bo said. "It will be better to tell them now so they have some time to process before she shows up. But stand back for this one..."

It was going to be messy.

Bo took in a deep breath and led them back into the camp. No one had gone to sleep yet. They'd all only just finished their evening meal and begun to settle down for the night, and most of them were engaged in their own separate conversations.

But when he stepped into the camp, several people's heads turned towards him. There must've been something in his walk that drew people into sobered silence, or maybe it was the look on Deidra's face as she stood behind him, but without having even said anything, chatter began to die down naturally.

"If I could have everyone's attention--" was all it took for everyone to fall to silence.

"Thank you," Bo said.

And he could already feel the water rising.

"There's been a new development," Bo said. "After weeks of silence, Tula has finally reached out to Deidra."

Tense silence.

"It was a cry for help. After turning James over to the kingdom, the Blue Suns turned on Tula and tried to turn her in for being a mage. She's currently on the run and has nowhere to turn to. Deidra and Robin will be leaving us to to go help her--"

"Help Tula?" Hendrik said sharply as he stood up, interrupting Bo. "Why would we let our comrades go to help that bitch? I say we let the kingdom catch her."

"I'm fine with it," Robin said.

Between Bo and Robin, the moment he'd said it, they'd shared a quiet look of understanding.

Robin was good at last-minute changes, and gods knew there always were things that came up last minute.

And Bo had good faith that Robin would look out for Deidra and Tula.

"We'll still go through with our plan as normal," Bo said. "Robin and Deidra simply won't be joining us. But after the rescue in King's Peak, I will depart to join them. Mel and Raj will lead you from that point forward to safety."

"You're going to send the puppy to get her?" Hendrik scoffed. "He might never come back. You know what she's capable of. She stabs people in the back."

"Speak for yourself," Robin said. "I'm capable of more than you seem to assume."

"Listen, little man. I'm trying to help you out here," Hendrik said smugly.

Robin growled, and though he was still in human form, standing with his arms crossed, he bore his teeth.

"I have confidence in Robin's ability to guide them. He's gone on hundreds of solo mission over the years and we haven't lost him yet," Bo said.

"Doesn't anyone else want to defend the puppy's honor?" Hendrik asked, ignoring Bo as he looked to the others. Namely Eve, since he was staring expectedly at her.

Eve sighed. "If Deidra wants to find her, that's her business. I don't think it's wise to send our own after her, but since it doesn't impede on our mission, it doesn't concern me."

"I'm going to make sure Deidra stays safe," Robin said. "And if that sight-stealing bitch tries anything, I'm getting both of us out of there."

Well, calling Tula mean names was unecessary, but he appreciated the sentiment. Robin could hold his own.

Hendrik sat back down with a grunt.

"Fine. Guess we'll worry about this after we get our pal James back. But I'm going to punch the shit out of her if I ever see her," he said. "Consider this your only warning."

"Noted," Bo said.

Bo noticed Deidra nodded slightly.

"Come on, then," Robin said, waving to Deidra. "Grab your things. We're already losing time."

Deidra didn't hesitate, and the two of them were quick to go grab their few belongings - though Robin never did carry much on his person, anyway.

A few others expressed their concerns, but Bo assured them that he wasn't going to bring Tula anywhere near them, and that he planned on dealing with Tula personally to make sure she wouldn't be a threat to them or anyone else.

Elias seemed to be the only one of the group - outside of Bo's inner circle - who understood what exactly that meant.

Bo knew that no one else really knew what he was capable of. They didn't seem confident that Bo could handle her, but Bo didn't feel it necessary to prove himself. He knew he could handle her, and that was what mattered.

Bo gave Robin and Deidra a quick goodbye, and discussed briefly with them where they would meet after all of this was over.

In four days they would be in King's Peak. So in a week, he would meet up with Robin, Deidra, and Tula, at a different base, away from the path Mel and Raj would be leading the others on their way to the the hidden city.

Once they departed, Bo could feel the pang of worry he usually suppressed slip in.

Yes, he was confident in Robin. But that didn't mean he never worried for his friend's safety.

And he still carried the worry for his own.

He knew the rescue in King's Peak could go wrong in so many ways. He was going to do everything in his power to keep anyone from getting hurt or caught, but he knew some things were just out of his control.

When he returned to the their camp, everyone was getting ready to sleep. No one seemed too fussed about Robin and Deidra's absence now that they were gone - it was mostly that they didn't like the fact that they were helping Tula. But again, Bo told them they wouldn't have to interface with her, and that seemed to alleviate their worries.

He'd already heard enough about Tula to know he would never trust her blindly. But he still wanted to give her a chance to prove herself. That didn't mean he wouldn't hold her responsible for her actions.

He was taking the first watch, so he found a tree to lean against, letting the storm in his head simmer.

While everyone began to tuck in for the night, Bo noticed Elias had yet to settle down. After making brief eye contact, Elias took it as a quiet invitation to come over - and he was right in assuming so.

"Hey," he said quietly as he sat next to him. "You seem stressed."

"There's a lot to think about," Bo said.

"Yeah..." Elias said. "What's on your mind right now?"

"I'm just hoping that things go alright in King's Peak," Bo said. "There are a lot of variables we can't prepare for."

Elias nodded. "Are you also worried about Robin?"

"A little," Bo admitted. "Less about what might happen with Tula. More about having to navigate escaping in general."

"Yeah, it seems he'll have a stressful next few days. It's kind of scary doing that without a big team," Elias said.

"It can be," Bo said. "Both of us have done solo rescue missions throughout the years... it's definitely more stressful doing it alone. But it's not impossible."

"Right," Elias said with a nod. "Why didn't you go with him?"

"I'll be more needed for the mission into King's Peak," Bo said. "If anything goes wrong... I want to be there."

He briefly met Elias's eyes with a meaningful look.

If anything went wrong and they were desparate, Bo did have power to fall back on.

"That's a hard decision to make," Elias said, thinking out loud. "You'd want to be there if anything went wrong with Robin, too. But you had to consider both options. That's a tough call."

"It was," Bo said.

"How did you make that choice?" Elias asked.

"Robin knows what he's getting into. We've done rescues outside of King's Peak before. But infiltrating the palace is something we've never done before," Bo said.

At least, not successfully.

There were two teams prior that had attempted to break into the palace. But none of them returned.

"Ah," Elias said with a nod. "That's fair logic, yeah."

Bo nodded slightly in return, but he was content to let things fall to silence for a moment.

"This is a really random question," Elias said, breaking the silence after only a few seconds. "But if you don't mind me asking... how did you lose your eye? I just figure, you know, with your divinity and all, you wouldn't lose an eye in a fight."

Bo looked over to Elias with a small smirk.

Elias was trying to lighten the mood, like he always was. But he also seemed to be genuinely curious. He'd probably been sitting on this question since the first time they met. Though that didn't surprise him. Everyone always wondered what happened to his eye.

"Well," Bo said, keeping his voice lower. "It happened before I inherited my magic."

It was implied he was talking about his dragonhood. He trusted Elias to understand that much.

"I was 13," he said. "It's a longer story for another day, but I had been captured as a child because I had a rare kind of magic and experimented on. I lost my eye when I escaped. Was a bit of a mess."

There really was no way to explain that without it killing the mood. Bo knew this from the few times he'd actually answered honestly.

"Oh," Elias said softly, looking away.

"Usually I make something up," Bo said. "And tell people I lost it in a fight with a bear. Sometimes a funny lie is easier to swallow than a difficult truth."

"Well... I appreciate you telling me the truth," Elias said with a small, sad smile. "Sorry I asked though."

"It's alright," Bo said softly. "I know people always wonder. It's not everyday you meet someone with one eye and a scar across their face to prove it."

"Yeah. That can't be easy to be reminded of that everyday," he said.

"Well, fortunately, I don't travel with a mirror in front of my face all the time," Bo said with a small smirk. "So I only really see my face when I shave. But even then, I think I've grown used to it. It's been long enough now that it just feels like its a part of me."

"Is that a good thing, though?" Elias asked.

"That it feels like a part of me?" Bo clarified.

Elias nodded. "Why let something traumatic be a part of you?"

"It's a part of me," Bo said. "But it's not all that I am."

"Yeah," Elias said with another nod. "You're more than a missing eyeball."

"Yeah," Bo said. "I've got all of this too."

He gestured to the rest of his body.

Elias snorted. "Who knew that partial loss of vision can make you stronger?"

"I lost my depth perception," Bo said. "But I didn't lose my vision for life."

At that, Elias closed his right eye then moved his hand across his face, presumably to see where his blind spot would be. Once he found it, he dropped his hand, opened his eye, and grinned.

"Hmmm," was all he said.

"Don't think about sneaking up on me on my left side, though," Bo said.

"Me? Never," Elias said innocently.

"Uh-huh," Bo said. He didn't believe him.

"Maybe you should put little mirrors by your head," Elias thought out loud. "That way, you can see from all directions. Then again, I think that'd be pretty handy for any person. Imagine being able to see what's behind you without turning around. Hey, that could be useful for our mission."

"If I had to attach them to myself I can see that being more inconvenient than helpful," Bo said. "What, would they be attatched to me on like, a harness?"

"Ick, that would be so weird. Like mirrored dog collars," Elias said, scrunching up his nose at the thought.

"Sounds uncomfortable," Bo commented.

"So the mirror plan is a bust. Ah well. We can throw that idea out of our heads," Elias said with a silly smile.

"Seems so," Bo said with a grin.

He looked out over the camp, seeing that everyone else was fast asleep, or at least, mimicking the appearance of it.

"Are you going to sleep soon?" Bo asked.

"Depends. Would my friend like company throughout the night?" Elias asked with a shrug.

Bo laughed with a light huff through his nose.

He appreciated Elias, and maybe if it were a different night, Bo really would have wanted the company. But at the moment, he really did just want some space to think alone.

It was kind of sad, though. Elias was so quick to comfort others, but always refused comfort himself.

"I think I'll be alright," Bo said. "But thank you."

"Yeah, of course," Elias said with a smile, then eyed his empty bedroll. "Alright. I guess I'll be catching up on my beauty sleep now. See you in the morning?"

"See you."

With a nod, Elias stood up and made his way to his bedroll, only giving Bo one last glance back with a smile. Then he slid under his blanket and rolled his back away from him.

When Bo was certain no one was watching him, he finally let himself let out a long sigh.

Elias was right to assume Bo was stressed. He was.

But he was also tired.

But as was with most things, he had to wait until all of this was over before he could truly rest.

He was cold.

The world around him was dark. A lone light flickered in the corner, somewhere out of view. The air was thick and heavy, and the cold crept in past his bare skin.

James was bound to a table, staring up at a dark stone ceiling somewhere in the depths of the palace, far from where anyone could see or hear or even know of his existence.

His lips were dry and cracked, and he could taste the crusted blood on his tongue. Finally, he could feel the haze of lumshade on his mind starting to fade away, and for once, he was lucid. But with lucidity came the alaming awareness that despite being bound to a table with metal cuffs tight against his skin, he was not in pain.

Somewhere between being hit with a dart outside of King's Peak and the present, he'd been completely healed.

Any remaining aches or pains were gone, and for the first time in months, he actually felt stronger than he ever had. His body felt healthy, as if weeks of recovery had passed, when James knew it couldn't have been more than a few hours, or at most, a day.

An unsettling realization weighed down on him as he stared out into the darkness.

Healing mages. The only way he couldn't been healed so fast was through healing mages.

He began to pull against his restraints to no avail. His wrists and ankles were bound, but so was his head. It felt like there were cold, metal hands digging into his sides, holding him in place. Moving was not an option. Not unless he wanted to hurt himself.

But if he was bound like this, it was only for one reason.

Torture.

James knew there was no way he'd get out of this. The cuffs that restrained him were one with the table, and the metal ground against his bones. There was no wiggle room to even attempt to pull his hands through. No space to break his thumbs, no space to break anything. He wouldn't even be able to bend or pull his hands at the right angle with everything else pinned down as it was.

Maybe he was being fatalistic. Maybe there really was another way. But he couldn't think of one. Any ideas he could conjure - even if they resulted in him somehow getting off the table with self-broken bones - they all ended at the door he knew would be bolted shut, and the halls he knew were lined with soldiers and enough lumshade darts to take out a small army.

He wasn't getting out of this. He'd had dozens of chances before, and he'd squandered them all. He should've tried harder. He should've risked more. He should've been willing to bank on the hope that Rita would never kill him because of her love for money and her twisted affection for him. He should've tried to get away when he had the chance - but he didn't. He'd given up before he'd even realized he had. He'd been trying to convince himself that he was holding out for hope, but really all he was holding out for was this.

Where things finally ended, here, on this table, where he would be pieced apart until he couldn't take it any more.

And maybe it was fitting that it all ended this way. All this time he'd been running from something he knew would catch up to him. It had always been leading up to this moment - it was just a matter of when.

Maybe he hadn't given up when Rita caught him. Maybe it hadn't even been when he decided to walk into that camp. Maybe he'd given up a long time ago. Years before any reconnections were made with Eve. Before he'd made any new friends. Before he'd even met Eve, and before he became a criminal. Before he joined the army.

He'd given up when he saw his father die.

It always came back to that. And he couldn't blame anyone for how his father's death shaped him for the rest of his future. James had made decisions he could never take back - ones that changed the course of his life forever. Maybe it was all because, deep down, he just wanted to die a hero like his father.

But there was nothing heroic about this.

There was nothing heroic about dying alone, miles underground, while all of his friends were left behind. Left to wonder what happened to him, or worse, left to find him too late. Left to find him dead and only get hurt themselves saving someone beyond saving.

At some point - and he couldn't tell anything about the passage of time anymore - the door creaked open.

Stone scraped against stone. Footsteps echoed off the walls as light poured in from the hall, casting a tall shadow over the ceiling. James could feel a chill of air follow in with them before the door scraped shut behind them, and the room turned dim again.

Another light was lit, and then another. Both out of view, as James couldn't turn his head to see.

James's heart began to race as the footsteps drew nearer, and when James expected to see a familiar face, he didn't.

Walking up next to the table was a tall, lean woman. Her face was gaunt, and her long, pale hair was tied up in a bun at the back of her head. She wore glasses with rounded lens, and the reflection of the firelight partially hid her eyes from view as she looked down at him with an expression so emotionless he couldn't help but feel like she wasn't looking down at a person at all.

She pressed her thin lips together like she was in thought.

"Seems you've already been touched by a carver or two," she said, looking down at his bare chest.

He hated feeling so exposed. His whole body was bare except for his undergarments, and even that felt like it wasn't there.

James knew it was pointless, but he tugged against the bonds anyway.

"Oh, there's no need for that," the woman said far too casually, and then she walked away, stepping out of view. James tried to turn his head to the side, but the plate of metal around his forehead was shaped to his skull. It didn't budge.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the woman said, her voice floating somewhere to his left. "My name is Arimala. I'm a healer in the shelter of the Blackfield's palace. I've had many jobs over the years, hidden in his care. But at present, I have the pleasure of tending to you."

James could hear what sounded like metal, faintly clinking. The bare, stone walls made everything louder.

"We don't have to talk," she said. "Not yet, anyway. I know you've had quite a journey. You must be tired. But I must admit I am quite curious."

She came back into view, her lips pulled into a small, closed-lip smile.

"This will be fun, I think," she said, holding a pair of forceps in one hand and a scalpel in the other. "Most of the time, people come in here as a blank slate. But this... you've given me a lot to work with."

She traced over his chest with the forceps, tracing the most recent scar across his chest.

That one was from Tula.

"Let's start with the newest one, shall we?" Arimala said.

Everything inside of him was screaming at him to run. Adrenaline was pumping through him, but it had nowhere to go. James tried to inch away, knowing that no matter what he did, he wasn't going to escape. But his heart still pounded anyway.

"Take a deep breath," Arimala had the audacity to say before she dug into the healed scar with her scalpel.

James grit his teeth as she dug the blade in, dragging it across his chest at an agonizingly slow speed. Pain shot through him like a fresh brush stroke across a blank slate. It only occured to him then that Arimala - or some other healer who'd been forced, bribed, or coerced into Blackfield's servitude - must have healed him for that sole purpose. So that Arimala would get a fresh start.

But his thoughts quickly grew muddled as blood began to pool on his chest, and Arimala moved next to his arms.

His heart was racing. His head was pounding. He found himself tugging at the bonds again, but Arimala's scalpel didn't waver.

The memory flashed in the forefront of his mind like he was seeing it through his own eyes. No. Through Tula's eyes. Through Eve's eyes.

He was in the tent again. Bleeding out, covered in blood, sweat, and water. Deidra was holding him down, and he could taste his own blood in his mouth.

James pinched his eyes shut, trying to push out the memory.

But Arimala didn't stop there. She kept going.

There was a deep, stabbing pain in his side.

Reed.

Six years ago, James had been in the hands of a different torturer. It was as if Arimala knew that, now, as she dug into his skin, reopening the wound that had long-since healed.

The cold night in the forest. The buzz of the crickets. His own muffled screams cutting into the night.

James bit down hard, shaking as Arimala dug deeper and deeper.

When he slit his eyes open to look up at her, she was watching him with a cold, calculating gaze. Then her eyes dropped down to his stomach and the wound.

He was going to bleed out at this rate. She'd already dug too deep.

But she set her scalpel to the side and reached over to his chest, tracing her fingers across the wound she'd just reopened.

There was a familiar warmth that seeped into his skin from hers. While one wound was screaming, she was healing another. But she paused, like she was waiting to see how long he'd hold out before she'd heal the others.

She looked down at his arm and began to trace a scar with his fingertips. She wasn't holding a scalpel, but it was like he could feel the pain before it came, and he couldn't stop at the memory replayed in the back of his mind - one he'd long since buried - when Reed cut into his skin and peeled it back, just to see how James would react.

James's breaths were becoming shaky.

Arimala hummed, looking down at him with the same emotionless, calculating look in her eyes, still waiting.

Then she reached out, and, dragging both her hands down his arms, healed both reopened wounds in an instant. But the energy rushing into his body didn't feel like the comforting warmth he normally knew with healing magic.

It was like a rush of adrenaline. His heartrate leaped again, and he could feel beads of sweat pilling on his forehead.

Finally, Arimala laid her hands on his side. Light shot out of her palms, and he'd never known a warmth so piercing. It was like his flesh was forcefully being sewn together just as violently as it had been ripped apart.

But he was, nevertheless, healed.

Something lingered in his nerve endings, like a shock, radiating inside of him. Even though the wounds had been healed and he was no longer bleeding, it was like the pain still lingered deep inside.

Arimala took in a deep breath, and she leaned on the table with a deep sigh.

Looking up at her, her eyes looked more sunken and weary, like the act of healing had exhausted her. But then she stood up straight and turned to him, meeting his eyes.

"One last thing for today," she said. "It's like an exchange, you see? A self-sustained cycle."

James had no idea what she was talking about. But then she laid her hand on his forehead, fingertips splayed out across the arch of his skull.

For a second, James felt nothing.

And then he felt everything.

An overwhelming sharp pain pierced through his skull and permeated throughout his whole body, from his head to his toes.

The pain was so overwhelming, James's vision went white. His ears started ringing. The sensation was so mind-numbing all James could process was the fact that he was in more pain than he'd ever been in in his life. He was so consumed by the feeling that his soul might've been literally ripped from his body that he barely even heard himself scream.

When Arimala ripped her hand away, the surge of pain came to a sudden stop, and every muscle in James's body felt like it was on the verge of collapse.

James's vision was still spotted with white and black. His throat felt raw. His ears were still ringing.

A blinding light was shining in his eyes when things finally started to clear up in his vision, and when he blinked it away, he was staring up at Arimala.

She looked more alive and energized than when she came in.

"I see," she said, her voice full of interest. "You have more fight in you than it appears. Thought I might have overdone it..."

James felt like he'd been sapped of any and all energy.

He was exhausted, and he felt like he barely had it in him to breathe, nevermind keep his eyes open.

He could barely comprehend what had just happened.

He knew what it felt like for a healer to heal. He knew what it felt like for a healer to give. But even when Elias had borrowed energy from him once to heal himself, it had never felt like this.

It felt like Arimala had stolen something from him. Something he didn't think he could ever get back.

Arimala's shadow fell over him as James felt consciousness fading. And strength he'd had was gone.

"You know," Arimala's voice carried over him, bouncing off the walls. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Finally. What had she been waiting for? He'd never met her. Had Carter told her about him?

"I think you knew my brother," Arimala said. "Years ago. You probably remember him."

James felt a pit of dread in his stomach. If her brother had been a mage... it was possible James didn't remember. Not because he didn't want to, but because there were so many deaths he witnessed... how could he remember them all?

"He wasn't a mage, like me," Arimala said. "But he did become a doctor."

James felt his mind freeze.

"He had a bad habit of getting into sticky situations. You probably knew him by the name of Oliver."

No...

"I'll see you again soon. Tiberius."

James stared up at the ceiling, watching as the light went dim. Listening as her footsteps receded.

Exhaustion was setting in, and he couldn't escape it. The door creaked open, but it was the last thing he heard.

When he finally woke from his state of unconsciouseness, it was with a jolt, in a cold sweat.

He was in withdrawl. Again. But this time, he couldn't even move to a more comfortable position to alleviate the symptoms. And even though he knew some of what he was feeling was because he was no longer on a constant intake of lumshade, there was a underlying pain that felt wrong. Unnatural.

It radiated down from his head. He could still feel Arimala's lingering touch, like her fingers were still wrapped around his head. Each touch point was still registering pain, but here was nothing to be the source.

It felt like his nerve endings had been burnt at the ends, and yet it hadn't numbed them. It just broke them.

He was used to chronic pain. But not this kind of pain. Not the kind that seemed to live in his head and in every other inch of him, like his body was riddled with something he couldn't escape. Something had burrowed its way into every muscle and every bone. Even the places he thought he couldn't feel anymore because of nerve damage felt reawakened, only to feel pain.

It wasn't as intense as her first touch. But to compare it to that... that pain had been incomparable. Even in his worst moments he'd never experienced a level of pain that surpassed that.

He didn't know how long he'd been out, but waiting in the darkness and the silence that followed grew agonizing - not merely because he was left alone with his thoughts - but because he grew more and more sick.

He was sweating the lumshade out of his system. But he had nothing to counteract it with. No food, no water.

Nausea built inside of him like a wave. He could feel it bubbling inside his gut, turning over and over and over.

Hours passed. James found himself heaving heavy breaths, trying to keep from passing out.

He felt like he was burning up. His body hurt in places it shouldn't. He was pretty sure he peed himself, and it was only confirmed when he started to smell it.

At last, he couldn't hold it in anymore. Vomit sputtered out of his mouth, and he did everything he could to turn his mouth to the side as much as he could, but it still spilled all over his chin, his neck, and his chest. He had to spit out what lingered in his throat to keep from choking on it or swallowing it back down.

The smell was overwhelming. And he sat in it helplessly in the hours that followed, still feverish and clammy. Not to mention the cold air, which continued to be a stark contrast to his burning head.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, somewhere between asleep and awake.

At some point, the door opened.

He expected to see Arimala. Or even Carter. Instead, several hooded figures came in, immediately hovering around him.

They lit up the room, but he found he was still barely able to see. His eyes couldn't adjust to the light fast enough, and the people who came around him were like shadows.

Without saying a word, they began to clean him up.

They scrubbed every inch of him until he was clean. They tore his undergarments away, leaving a thin blanket over his lower half as a replacement. Some of them fell out of view as he heard scrubbing sounds below him, on the floor.

It appeared they'd been expecting this.

Eventually, when he assumed they were finish scrubbing the place spotless, along with him, one of the hooded figures came to stand beside his head.

Eyes finally adjusted, he could see under the hood was a young man. He couldn't have been older than 20. His expression was solemn, but detatched.

The man reached around James's head, and he heard something click out of place. The man slowly removed the metal strap around James's skull, and it was pushed out of James's sight, presumably behind him.

The man lifted up a canteen, and tucked his head behind James's head to lift it up at an angle. Then he put the mouth of the canteen to his lips.

Knowing he didn't have much of a choice in the matter, James drank.

He was releived that it was water.

The man held up his head and let James take his time. He didn't drown him. He waited between gulps for James to open his mouth again, and then when James couldn't take any more, he leaned his head back, and the man lowered it.

As the man pulled away, James expected them to lock his head back in place.

Instead they moved his head, and cleaned under it, getting the places beneath him where the vomit had leaked and spread.

And then the man came around and began to wash his hair.

James had a moment where he wondered what this was all for.

They were going to torture and kill him, anyway. Was this just so the stench didn't build up over time? He couldn't imagine it being for any other reason. Far be it from Carter to not enforce cleanliness standards even in a torture chamber.

When they'd finished washing his hair and other things in the cell appeared to be attended to, the group of hooded figures left as quickly and quietly as they came.

James found himself wondering why he hadn't even thought to speak to them.

He didn't know why, but he had a feeling in his gut that no matter what they said, they wouldn't reply. Besides, there was no way he was going to convince any of them to help him. He had long since been past that point.

No one was going to help him now, were they?

Even the ones who wanted to...

Even Eve...

How could they?

In the absence of company, James found himself sitting in silence.

The feeling of sickness lingered, but he felt like he'd thrown up everything inside him.

Left alone with his thoughts, he found himself reflecting.

James was 27. He'd spent the last seven years of his life running.

His father died at 30. James wasn't even going to make it to 28. His birthday would've been two months away. And just a year ago, he'd tried to end it even earlier.

James closed his eyes.

For so long he'd been waiting for his life to be over. And just when he'd found something to live for, it all led to this.

That was some cruel form of poetry.

This day was the worst.

Tula had to keep coordinating back and forth with Deidra to even figure out what the plan was, and by the end of it, she still wasn't sure where she was supposed to go to meet her. Deidra said she would find her, but how? She was never going to find her while Tula was trapped like this.

And - oh, boy, was this convenient - scouts and sun members were scouring the area when Tula conveniently was ready to move again.

So now she was stuck. Stuck in this goddamn tree, waiting for her hero to save her. Fan-fucking-tastic. Like she needed another hero to save her.

Gods, what was with today and people trying to save her?

Now stuck frozen on the highest point of this tree, Tula was forced to quietly wait by herself, alone with her thoughts. She didn't even want to think about what Rita did, what James did, or what Deidra is doing. She just had to focus on saving her own ass.

She did continue to share sight with Deidra, showing her where she was at - although she didn't think it'd be that much help considering her surroundings were fairly nondescript. To hear updates, she also took over her sight often, maybe too often since Deidra kept tripping from the sudden loss of vision.

This was stupid. This was so stupid. Deidra could be naive sometimes, and although Tula appreciated her sentiments after everything that happened, she was naive to believe that she could find her on some random tree at King's Peak of all places.

Was Deidra even nearby? Why would she be nearby?

Tula wished she could talk to her, but she was afraid that even a whisper could give her spot away. She couldn't risk it, especially since they seemed unrelentless in their pursuit to find her.

Rita wouldn't give up easily. No, she would bring dogs in if she needed to. How long would it be until that happened?

Gods. This was all so stupid. Tula wanted to groan from embarrassment.

Hours passed. It was nighttime now. Even if Deidra wanted her to send an update, there was nothing to share except the darkness of the night.

What Tula would give to flop down, stretch her legs, and scream into the sky. Adrenaline kept her alert, diligently keeping her eyes on any scouts that passed. She hadn't seen anyone pass for a while, but there was at least a voice or a noise every hour.

Tula focused on a shadow approaching. A scout, presumably. Her eyes fell to the smaller figure beside them.

A canine.

Great! The dogs are here! And it was sniffing Tula out!

Tula wanted to laugh, but instead she waited and squinted, trying to make out the details of the person. They were tall and broad, but between the darkness and the height from the tree, she couldn't make out distinguishable details.

If she had to guess, this must be a soldier from the kingdom. They were built like one.

Why were they walking slow, though? Why was the dog not barking? They were overly careful and cautious.

Then the dog stopped in front of the tree, pointing up with its nose.

Tula braced for the worst. She thought of possible escape plans on the spot, getting ready to jump and run away without getting hurt.

The figure stopped beside the canine, looking around, then looking up.

"Tula?" the figure whispered.

Deidra. It was Deidra.

Tula froze. The figure was Deidra all along.

Still, she had to be sure. She exchanged sight with Deidra, and as expected, she was now looking up at the same thick tree she was perched on. Dropping the vision, Tula took a deep breath and started to climb down, finding her footing before sliding down the main trunk.

When she landed back on the ground, she shifted her eyes between Deidra and the canine - a wolf, not a dog - then glanced around their surroundings.

"Are you alone?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"It's just me and Robin," she whispered, gesturing down to the wolf.

Tula stared at the wolf for a second, but then started to turn away, looking down the direction they came from.

"It's not safe here. We have to go," she said. "Do you have a place in mind?"

"Yes. But it will be a while," Deidra said. "We have to be quiet."

Tula nodded. This was a precarious and dangerous situation, but she admitted that she enjoyed the thrill of keeping low with Deidra. She missed this.

"Lead the way," she said.

Deidra nodded, but Tula noticed that the wolf took the lead before Deidra, and Deidra seemed to be following the wolf more than the other way around. It was frankly really weird, but Tula didn't question it. She concluded that Deidra must have picked up a loyal canine companion along the way.

They trekked through the darkness for hours. They wound through the forest in an indirect path, and Tula found herself questioning if they'd been turned around a few times. Then again, they were following a wolf. Was this a good idea? She gave Deidra some long looks, but Deidra seemed focused and determined that they were on the right path forward.

Tula did notice, though, that despite all their wandering, they didn't run into anyone.

Eventually, Tula was able to see that they'd made distance from King's Peak. For a long while - and it felt like forever - they'd been traveling downhill, and every time she looked up, the looming shadow of the giant, walled city was behind them, backlit by the moon.

But at some point, they started moving uphill again. And before she knew it, they were at the top of a hill, in the thick of the trees, and she could look out over the treetops and see the shadow of King's Peak had grown smaller. From where they stood, it was about as large as her hand.

Deidra nudged for Tula to keep going.

"Just a little further," Deidra whispered.

Tula was exhausted, but she nodded and trekked forward. They'd made it this far, but she owed Deidra her trust.

The forest was thick and she couldn't make out much around her, but eventually - finally - they came to a stop. And in the dark shadows of the trees around them, she could see a small, run-down one-room cabin. It practically blended in with their surroundings, as it was covered in moss and vines.

The wolf went up the small porch and up to the door. It was again really weird to see a wolf act human-like, but Tula shrugged it off.

The wolf looked back at her, like it was making eye contact.

"Where'd you find the wolf, anyways?" Tula asked Deidra, creeped out.

"I didn't find him," Deidra said. "Well... maybe I did."

"Well, seems like he makes a good companion. He acts weirdly human though, doesn't he?"

"That's uh. That's because--" Deidra started to say.

Tula blinked. The wolf was gone. In its place, a small bald man with dark skin stood there, still staring at her.

Tula had to rub her eyes, feeling delirious as she thought she imagined it all.

"...he is one," Deidra finished awkwardly.

"Holy shit!" Tula said panickedly as she took some steps back, nearly tripping.

"He's a werewolf," Deidra explained. "They're uh, a kind of person on Nye. They shift from wolf to human instantaneously. Some kind of... magical thing."

Tula grimaced, still staring at the man. Or rather, werewolf. This whole time, she had thought they were being led by an actual wolf. She thought she and Deidra were alone.

"Well, are you coming inside?" the man asked. He picked at the lock on the door and pushed it open.

"Who is that guy?" Tula asked urgently in a whisper, pulling Deidra aside.

"His name's Robin," Deidra whispered back. "I found him after I ran away. He's actually kind of nice. Took me in."

"So he's..." Tula narrowed her eyes at her, "...trustworthy?"

"Yes," Deidra answered. "He was the only one who wanted to help me come help you."

Tula stared back at the door and Robin who looked to be increasingly impatient. "Are you going inside?" she asked.

"Only if you two are," Robin said.

Tula sighed. "Fine," she said, walking towards the door.

Standing next to Robin, she realized he was a fairly short man and tilted her head down to stare at his bald head. Somehow, him being short was fitting.

She ignored him and entered the tiny cabin.

Tula half-expected the place to look just as abandoned in the side as it did on the outside, but it actually seemed tidy and orderly. Four cots lined the wall with fading fabrics. An old woodfire stove lined the opposite wall, along with dusty cabinets. A large trunk hugged a corner of the room that was available. It was a small minimal space, but it seemed to be a popular spot since everything seemed well-used and weathered.

"Pick a cot. Deidra and I will split watches," Robin said. "We'll move again in the morning."

Tula gladly picked the nearest cot, not bothering to question his authority. She was tired and exhausted. If Deidra trusted Robin, this was good enough for her.

She laid down, not even bothering to kick off her shoes. She was already caked in dirt anyways.

"Wake me up if you need anything," she grumbled before turning away.

"I won't," Robin said flatly.

Tula rolled her eyes even though no one could see it. He seemed nice.

Deidra took the cot beside Tula, and she could hear Deidra's breaths turn steady as she seemed to fall asleep instantly.

That was new, considering that Deidra often had bouts of insomnia, especially when she was in an unfamiliar place. This seemed to be a sign that she really trusted Robin.

That or she was also really exhausted. Probably both.

Whatever. Trusting a werewolf seemed to be smarter than trusting a wolf to lead her to safety. She already did the latter, so what difference did it make now?

With a deep breath, Tula closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.