Lothar, Traetos Province, Southern Avestria

Herios along with Kiyara was sitting inside a cart that was being pulled by a Shrava. The tapping sound of the Shrava's hooves could not be differentiated from the noise of the torrential rains. The rescue mission was accomplished and the people of Lothar were being carried towards the capital city of Harāpiā in carts. It was dark; the growling of the wind and the thunderous roars through the clouds reverberated all around the milieu. Ramusa had pressed hard at his waist as he had been impaled several times during the skirmish. He could not loose any more blood or he wouldn't survive. He was enervated. Herios's wounds had mitigated but he flinched, every time he made a rapid move.

Fortunately, the carts were closed; ergo they were protected from getting wet in the copious rainfall. The cart, howbeit, was leaking water through the corners. The wooden floor of the cart was moist and the it bounced every time it went through a crater. Kiyara had cringed herself at the corner of the cart. She was sitting far away from Ramusa and Herios and she had pulled her legs closer to her body. She was aghast from all the things that she had seen at her age, which was hardly five Mesha.

She wasn't able to accept the fact that her mother was raped, tortured, and then murdered in front of her. She wasn't prepared to acknowledge that she was now in safer hands. Everyone was a perpetrator in her eyes. Everyone was a sinner for her. She wasn't even looking at anybody and her eyes were fixated towards the floor of the cart. Her entire body was shivering but she was too benumbed to express anything.

Herios realized that Kiyara was cold so he attempted to put a nearby garment over her but she cowered as he advanced. Herios was flabbergasted. Her insecurity and fear were blatant from all that she had suffered. Her father was killed and now her mother was gone. She was left as an orphan amongst strangers who slit throats and butchered people. For her, there was no difference between Ramusa who had saved her life, and the Parso usurpers who had captured her. All men were the same in her eyes. She was afraid of them. She wanted to run away from this abject world that had killed her family.

"It's all right... I am not going to harm you," spoke Herios softly. She recoiled despite Herios being amiable. Perhaps, all these belligerent incidents had imparted a severe trauma over Kiyara's mind. Everyone seemed hostile to her.

"Let her be for now," said Ramusa. Herios retracted to his place. He was befuddled on seeing Kiyara's state. He wanted her to feel safe. He wanted her to know that he wasn't going to harm her. But Kiyara was blanched. She trusted no one.

Traveling through the mushy paths and the stormy winds, the carts carrying the rescued civilians of Lothar arrived at a flatland with a dense canopy, suitable for camping. The night was young, the wind tempestuous, the rains relentless. To their serendipity, they finally found a dense cover of coniferous trees that could provide warmth and shelter. The Shrava, pulling the cart were exhausted and they needed rest for the night after hours of traveling incessantly. Suddenly, the tapping of the hooves ceased.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Herios. Ramusa was clueless.

"I think we are camping here for the night," he replied. Ramusa slowly moved from his place and slid the curtain of the cart to the sides. As he peeked outside, he noticed that all the carts had stopped. The rains had created a fog that obscured the entire locale. All that could be heard was the rainfall coupled with the occasional neighs of the Shrava.

As soon as he widened the gap between the curtains, the wintry winds rushed inside through it, sending a chill through everyone's spine. Kiyara shuddered and pulled her legs closer to keep herself warm.

Her clothes were made of a gossamer fabric that could hardly shield her from the frosty wind. Herios noticed and he jolted from his place and moved towards Kiyara.

He wrapped his arms around her even though she resisted and punched him. Herios incurred all of those punches and slaps, some of which hit his extant injuries. Kiyara punched him over his jaw and Herios flinched.

"Get away from me!" she exclaimed but Herios wouldn't let her go until he wrapped the garment around her to keep her warm.

As soon as Kiyara felt the warmth around her body and the cold, vanishing from her flesh and bone, she was placated. Herios moved away from her and resumed his place. Kiyara's punch made his jaw bleed through his teeth. He wiped the blood from the back of his palm and sat in front of her in a coiled posture. His legs spread apart and his arms resting on top of his knees. Kiyara felt guilty for hitting Herios when he was just trying to keep her warm. But the trauma of losing her mother had made her suspicious of everyone.

"Something's wrong," said Ramusa. His tone worried and his actions wary. Herios tried to peek through the gap, looking over Ramusa's broad back. However, he was too huge for him so Herios almost climbed over Ramusa's shoulders to look beyond them.

"I cannot see anything. Where is everyone?"

An unsettling feeling was concealed in the gelid winds as it whispered its breath through the ears and the hearts of the people. The fragrance of the wet mud filled their noses as the rains were pouring rivers of water that had clogged their entire path. Nothing could be seen amidst this nebulous and dark atmosphere. Ramusa could hear the footsteps of the men in the vicinity which had him alarmed. A group of Harāpiān soldiers sprinted towards the carts at the front.

"Something's happened," he spoke.

"I think I better see to it." he continued and prepared to step down from the cart. Herios wanted to follow but Ramusa gave him a glimpse to halt.

"Keep an eye over her, would you?" he said. Herios agreed with a nod. Ramusa jumped down from the cart, sending it into a wobble on one side of it.

"I will be back," he said and walked away, leaving behind Herios and Kiyara. Herios glanced at Kiyara and found her petrified.

"Don't worry... I am not leaving you here alone... I am with you," he said in a reassuring tone and a gentle smile. Kiyara didn't respond. Not even a single nod, acknowledging his generosity. Herios could only imagine the agony of loosing one's mother and father. He couldn't be sympathetic for her because he was an orphan since his birth. So, he let her be.

Meanwhile, Ramusa walked towards the front of the cavalcade, asking every rider about the situation and getting shrugs in return. No one knew anything about what had happened. By the time Ramusa arrived at the first cart that had ceased the entire queue, he was soaked in water from head to toe. He saw Velnik Stoneweld standing at the edge of the cart, his back turned against him. The rest of the Harāpiān troops had gathered around him.

"What's the matter, Master Stoneweld?" he called out loud so that his voice could be heard amidst the roaring rains. Velnik looked back over his shoulder and glimpsed at Ramusa as he walked towards him.

"Our path is blocked," said Velnik loudly, pointing at the fallen trees that were impeding their travel. "The storm must have uprooted them!" he shouted. Everyone was speaking loudly as whispers couldn't be heard amidst this tumultuous rain. "Can we take another way?" asked Ramusa.

"What?!" Velnik shouted. "I said, Can... we... take... another... way?" Ramusa yelled back. "I don't know!..." replied Velnik.

"Perhaps we should camp for the night," he added. Ramusa took a glimpse of the surroundings. Although he couldn't see far enough as the atmosphere was obscured by the fog, he could see a dense cover of trees that could provide them shade and resources.

"Let's camp for the night," he yelled. Velnik agreed.

"You should get that looked at," said Velnik, hinting at Ramusa's injury.

"I am used to it," replied Ramusa dismissively.

After hours of setting tents and erecting shade for the Shrava, the camp was finally set and the night was still too long for them to rest. To their fortune, the rains had stopped but the wintry winds still danced around their camp.

Maybe the rains decided to be clement towards these unfortunate people who had already suffered but the winds were not so much in agreement. They could finally rest for the night and continue their journey at daybreak.