Flipping the gloves backwards, Rovena encloses them within her fingers, then spins on her heels and begins marching across the square. Her steps aren't entirely seamless, bitterly reminding me of the wound in her side. But she moves startlingly fast.

With a final glance at Fayre, I follow. Fanged flames bite at the back of my neck.

Above, twilight is eating away at the sky, its bluish hues awaking. The day isn't far away. Even so, as we slip into the gloom of a side street, the lamp now swinging at Rovena's waist stands out with ease, cutting through the faint grey mist still clinging to the air. At the distance I leave between us, I'm glad for its light. It gives me something easy to focus on when venturing my gaze elsewhere means the risk of meeting her eyes. Each glance she casts back at me is brief and pointed, a hook I can't help but be dragged along by.

The path comes to an end sooner than I expect. My steps falter, a flash of surprise making way for my sigh of relief. The cobbles underfoot have vanished. Now, I stand on soil, still compact and well-trodden but a cushion in comparison to stone. I raise my head, and a weight seems to drift from my shoulders. I'm no longer trapped at each side, either. Houses fall away to make way for trees.

These trees are odd, however. Their branches don't twist and spread like gnarled claws, bare with winter's chill. Instead, their tops stretch high into the sky, slim and narrow, and Rovena's pool of light reveals miniature leaves, dark yet virescent. Not able to contain the urge, I run a hand through a mass of them. Their tips are somewhat sharp, pricking at my palm before fire whisks the faint pain away.

"You coming?" Rovena says. My hand jerks back as I spin to face her.

"To where?" I ask, the thought striking me suddenly. This isn't the way to her home.

She gestures with the gloves, as if reminding me she still holds them. "Far enough away. Now come, unless you want the rest of Neyaibet to catch up with us."

Swallowing, I nod. As she continues, striding into the tall shadows of these new trees, I hurry after her. Flickering light spills over the forest floor, too easily swallowed by the darkness. Night hasn't let go of the world just yet.

Her bloodied side is shaded, the opposite to the one that houses Fayre's lamp. But it is visible. Its stains have reached the edge of her cloak, too.

That is my fault. I dig my nails into my palm, but the flame rises regardless. The limp in her step was gained in defence of me, and that was before she truly knew who she was defending.

I watch the black wisps embrace my hand. If only my flame had the power to heal others, rather than only me. It isn't fair. I haven't earned the ability nearly as much as her. If I was wounded so deeply, I doubt I'd be able to keep walking as she does.

"You're nothing without that cursed flame."

Biting down on my tongue, I shove back the image of Fiesi, the false hiss of his voice. I'd be a fool to dwell on a dream.

Even if it speaks the truth.

My flame climbs up my arms. Slowing my step, I retreat from the reach of Rovena's light, praying she won't catch sight of it.

For a few more minutes, we travel deeper into the forest. The trees begin to feel as much a cage as the town was, albeit less cramped and filled with more calming aromas. The needles have a specific smell I can't quite place, but it is pleasant, and twined with the damp scent of earth it creates a musty blanket.

Eventually, Rovena stops. She lets out a stifled groan as she lowers herself to the ground, leaning back against a tree stump with her legs straight. As soon as my dagger is set on her knees, her hand vanishes behind her cloak, reappearing a moment later with a long strip of white material. Tugging up her tunic, she proceeds to wrap it around her middle. Faint red quickly stains one patch at her side. Although the blood's scent must be masked by the forest, I'm sure I can taste it at the back of my throat, bitter and metallic.

"Is there anything I can do?" I wince at the futility of the question.

Tucking the end of the material into its wraps, letting her tunic fall back over it, she fixes me with a stare. "Yes. You can talk."

There is still fire wrapped around my forearm. I quickly push it below, debate sitting down opposite her, then decide against it. Too much nervous energy thrums through me. "You weren't supposed to find out," I say.

She snorts. "Oh, I know that."

I chew at my lip, unsure of how to begin. She spreads out a hand. "The soldier called you Anathe. Is that what you are?"

I look down. I'm starting to dislike that name. "Yes." The story floods back into my mind, and my head jerks up. "No. I... I don't know." That might have been a good question for Ligari. Another reason to find her again.

If she still lives. I swallow hard. Hopefully she isn't another person who has paid for my existence on my behalf.

"What do you know?" Rovena draws one leg -- the one opposite her wound -- up to her chest, and drums her fingers on her knee.

Reluctant to raise any higher, I train my gaze on the movement. "A lot of what I told you was true. I am from a cell in Polevis." I rub at the back of my neck. "But the reason is, well." Flicking my wrist, I allow a cloud of black sparks to burst into a brief flame. "It kills people."

"By touch?"

Dropping my hand, I nod.

"Right." She shakes her head, letting out a disbelieving laugh. "No wonder Neyaibet wants you."

Tensed, I survey her. I'm searching for a sign of terror, I realise, of hatred or repulsion or at the least bit discomfort. Yet it is absent. Her gaze is not without fear, but she doesn't cringe back. My dagger is stationary on the ground before her. All she moves is her fingers, creasing her trousers as she traces shapes in them.

Perhaps the stretch of space between us helps. But I can't help the soar of lightness in my chest at that small peace. I have to pin it down, reminding myself of how quickly this can change.

"What I wonder," Rovena adds, projecting the words more into the open air than at me, "is why you were hidden away so long. Surely, something like that... power would be useful when we're losing a war?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad they didn't try to use me," I admit. "I don't want to kill people."

Her head rests back into the stump, her features drawn into a frown. "Imagine this, though. By killing just a few people, you save a lot of other lives." Her lips twitch. "And those people are from Neyaibet, which automatically devalues their existence by half."

Something about her words sits oddly, stirring uncomfortably in my stomach. I find myself shaking my head. "Killing people is still wrong, whoever they are."

A soft smile flickers into place. "You can't be the Anathe. You're far too wholesome."

Staring at my boots, I feel my flame tangle with the ribbon of hope her tone brings. "I wouldn't say that."

"Well, I am, and it's true. Hey." Her gesture lifts my head. My gloves swing between her loose fingers. "Are these magic too? Because I distinctly remember being able to touch you without dropping dead last night."

"Yes. They're a... a barrier to the flame."

"And you can't control it without them?"

It takes a moment of restraint to hold back the warm surge of fire that responds to the doubt in her tone. She's right to question it. If I wasn't so weak, I would be able to hold my own power back on my own. "I can't control it," I confirm tightly.

Thoughtfully, she runs a thumb over the leather. Then, with enough sudden force to make me jerk back into a mess of needles, she tosses the gloves in my direction. They land at my feet.

My eyes flick from them to her. She stretches a hand out. "Go on."

Still watching her out of the corner of my eye, I bend down, resting on my knees as I slot the gloves back into place. A thin, aching layer settles over me, only a gentle burden, yet spreading over my skin like a sticky web. I flex my hands, regretting not allowing more flame to burn while I had the chance.

Sliding my knees out, I pull them up to my chest as I sit. Rovena pats the space beside her. "You can come closer, if you want."

Nodding, I shuffle a little towards her, letting the distance close to a couple short paces before making myself content in the long grass. As much as my back would welcome the stump's support, my muscles protest any further movement, still screaming of the risk.

My hands rest over one another as I keep watching my dagger. Unmoving, but easy enough for her to grab, and too far from my reach. Ligari told me to stay alert. I failed to do that with Finlay, but now I curl my fingers over the cuff of one glove. Rovena notices.

"I said I wasn't going to hurt you." Her voice holds steeled force, but it is soft, like a feather adorning the shaft of an arrow.

I flinch back from its point. "A lot has changed since then."

"Not that." Lowering her hand, she flicks the hilt of my dagger, letting it spin a circle. "Promise me you're not going to run off, and I'll give this back."

The desire to run has faded with the subsidence of my flame. At this moment, staying with Rovena is a safer option than becoming lost in this strange forest, aware that every step could lead me stumbling into a Neyaibet trap. "I promise."

With a satisfied nod, she scoops up the dagger and sends it skidding through the undergrowth. I snatch it up with a mumbled, "Thanks."

As I turn it over, rubbing at the black markings, she shifts around. "You saved my life, you know."

The light has grown enough to form a hazy reflection in the blade. I quickly cover it with a hand, looking up. "You saved me first," I say, offering a wavering smile.

"Still." She smiles back. "Thank you. You could easily have run away instead of coming between us."

The thought hadn't even entered my mind. Now that it does, I dismiss it with a quick shake of my head. If I had run then, I would only be alone again, and I would have been leaving Rovena to die in my stead. "It wasn't right to leave you."

"You really care about right and wrong, then?"

"Of course."

Her smile lingers. "Definitely no Anathe, but you are special." Cocking her head to the side, she taps her knee again. Although it could be the morning's approaching light filtering droplets through the branches above, I'm sure I catch hopeful sparks glowing in her eyes. "Very special, in more ways than one. You know of the Oscensi royals?"

Something about her tone captivates me to lean forward, curious. "By that you mean the king, right?"

She nods. "King Cyneric. He -- along with his wife, Ela, and the two princes -- had an escape plan in place, should the castle come under siege. It's likely he took his best adviser as well. As far as I know, that plan succeeded. Neyaibet would have made sure that the news spread far and wide if they had our king as prisoner."

"That's good." I frown. "But why are you telling me this?"

Pushing herself off the stump a little, she pats at the air. "Bear with me. If Neyaibet does find them -- which will happen eventually, no matter how well they're hidden -- any chance of coming back from this is over. With the royal family dead, Oscensi no longer exists as a separate kingdom. The Neyaibet queen becomes our ruler, its scum soldiers our own army. That's it."

I swallow, hardly able to contain the shiver that snakes its way down my spine at the dread wound into her words.

"So," she adds, the twinkle in her eyes brightening, "the royals could do with some protection."

My grip on the dagger suddenly loosens, and I grab for it hurriedly before its blade can sink into my leg. "Me?"

She spreads her hands. "You protected me today, didn't you?"

Sliding the dagger back into place at my side, I swallow. "I suppose, but--"

"You can do it." Her certainty dries any other words from my tongue. "You don't have to kill anyone, but you can still be a huge benefit to Oscensi. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," I say without thinking. "But..." There really are no words to counter. My doubt is shapeless, protesting with only a stabbing twist in my chest.

"I have faith you can do it, Nathaniel." Bracing herself on the top of the stump, she rises with a grunt. The wind tugs at her ruffled tunic briefly to reveal a flash of the soft white material underneath, not bloodstained on this side. "Should I even call you Nathaniel? Is that your real name?"

I duck my head. "It isn't real. But I think... I think I'd prefer you to use it anyway."

She seems to tower over me even more than usual now that she stands, her rippling cloak catching the new glimmers of sunlight creeping into the sky. Her smile helps to lessen my intimidation. Reaching underneath her cloak with both hands, she produces a bag I assume must have been hanging from her waist; its straps dangle freely, recently used as ties. She sets it down on the stump and begins rooting through it.

After a few seconds of me lingering awkwardly off to the side, she lifts out a rolled-up scroll. Moving the bag to the ground, she unfurls the scroll, pinning down each opposite corner. Yanked by curiosity, I step closer to peer at it.

"A map," I breathe. It's all these miniature pencil drawings, so minimalistic in comparison to the detail of Ligari's art, can represent. Dotted lines separate the landmass into four segments.

One such line winds its way through a sketched mountain range, and it is this that Rovena traces with a finger. "This is the border between Oscensi and Akurin. We're here, in Threlkeld." She points to a single dot of that label, nestled amongst the mountains and just north of the line. "Once someone passes out of Oscensi territory and into Akurin, they are protected by the law of peace, and therefore it will be harder for Neyaibet soldiers to simply march in. Not impossible, but it's a safety net of sorts."

"So that's where the royals will go?" I ask.

She nods, pointing to another dot at the base of the range. "Most likely here, or thereabouts. It'll be a good place to start."

I run a finger over the map, its worn paper. The world seems so big when viewed in such a small way. Oscensi rules the entire top-left corner, land speckled with town-marking dots stretching wide. Polevis is marked with a simple crown, only my finger's breadth from the first of the mountains to its south. Neyaibet bridges the expanse of sea, and then there is a mass of repetitive drawings, trees, crowding almost the entire right side. A dotted line cuts it at a diagonal. The space below it is marked, in bold, curving letters, as Tarozar, a place I've heard spoken of rarely. Didn't General Velez mention it was allied with Neyaibet? But then why does it offer them no aid? They would sooner search for a weapon in me.

Shaking my head, I pull my thoughts before they can become settled in its mystery, reminding myself of how far that part of the world is from me. Right now, my only focus should be that narrow strip of mountains, the Aspid Range.

So small. My insides squirm. So much of this world is strange to me, and yet I'm tackling so much of it. The wriggling border between Oscensi and Neyaibet stretches for an unnameable distance, and yet I'm attempting to stand between these two massive kingdoms, even dictate their dealings with one another. I press a hand to my forehead, a sudden ache building there.

Polevis catches my eye again. I have seen a map similar to this before, and it unnerved me then. Now a portion of it brings familiarity, it is somehow even more frightening.

My head jerks up, gaze grasping for Rovena's. "Wait. I can't go to Akurin. I... I'm already searching for someone."

It sounds petty the moment I say it. I look back at the map, biting my lip. "But this is more important." As heavy as the statement is, it is all too true. One soldier is far less crucial than the king, wherever she might sit in my heart.

Rovena nudges my shoulder. "Fancy fire, and yet you're still a terrible liar."

Stepping back, I frown up at her. "That isn't a lie."

She chuckles. "It is, and not just because what I said rhymed." A smile dancing over her lips, she taps at a larger dot above the mountains, drawing my attention to another label. This one reads Chiva. "You're in luck, lover boy. If there are any soldiers left, chances are they'll be committed to the same task."

Delight flutters in my chest. "They'll be looking for the royals too?"

With a nod, she removes her hand from the map, letting its edges curl back in, and then commences rolling it up. "Heading for Akurin is your best bet for running into them. But Nathaniel." Straightening, she picks up the scroll, and meets my eyes sternly. "Please don't expect to find her. I really do hope you can, but understand how possible it is for her to be dead. Okay?"

"She isn't dead," I counter, burning certainty twisting around my heart. She holds my gaze, and I gulp. "I do understand. But... she's strong, I know she is."

Turning, she slides the map into the bag. "That's the thing about wars. They take even the strongest from us."

I keep any further protests locked inside, although they continue to smoulder. I know Rovena is right. Hope is dangerous, and yet I can't help the way it lights sparks within me whenever I think of the mission ahead. My own mission, not the more noble one she sets.

Shaking my head, I pick at my sleeve. Whatever it brings, I have to prioritise the royals. I shouldn't expect anything more. But that doesn't mean I can't continue to hope.

When I look up, Rovena catches me off guard. She holds the bag out to me, straps reattached. Slowly, I take it, though my confusion must be clear.

"I did pack this for you," she says, "last night. Well, for both of us, actually, but that was before" -- her gaze shoots from her wounded side to my hands, clasped before me -- "all this. And I've also got Neyaibet to deal with, now."

The straps are worn, but they hold firm despite the bag's surprising weight. I wince as I sling it over a shoulder, only partly because of its pull on my back. "I'm sorry. For causing so many problems."

Moving over, she reaches for the other strap, helping to pass it over my arm. I tense, but remain still. "None of this is your fault," she whispers. "No-one should blame you for what you can do. Besides," she adds as she draws back, "Neyaibet was going to come regardless."

A smile creeps up on me before I can help it. "Thank you."

"You are quite welcome, Nathaniel."

Hesitantly, I take a step back, before the reality of being alone again freezes my feet in place. I pull at the straps, adjusting them. "What's in this bag?"

She shrugs. "Basic supplies. That map. You know how to find north, right?"

I glance up at the sky. Brightening, with the faintest breath of light touching the tips of the trees. "I think so."

"I have faith. Oh, there's also a mask in there I bought off a travelling salesman. It can alter eye colour." She laughs. "I always thought that was the strangest thing I'd ever see. But anyway. You have rather... distinctive eyes, so I thought that might help."

An object like that sounds within Ligari's capabilities -- Jeía magic -- but I don't speak that aloud. "Thank you," I repeat.

She smiles. "Goodbye, Nathaniel."

It suddenly feels so final. As she turns away, a haze of doubts overtakes my mind, climbing out. "Wait."

Rovena glances back over her shoulder.

"When... if I find the girl I'm looking for," I start, "what should I say? How do I..." I swallow. "Do I tell her that I--I'm in love with her?"

A chuckle escapes her. "Just see how finding her goes first." Her eyes sparkle. "But... hm. Do you know what a kiss is?"

I hesitate over it, looking down as my cheeks grow warm. "No."

"Alright." In a couple of strides, she is back before me. "Do you mind if I demonstrate?"

"I--" She is suddenly very close. My heart hastens. "Sure?"

Another giggle skips out as she bends down, settling on her knees, her head now just below level with mine. She leans towards me. Instinctively, I flinch back, but her hand on my shoulder keeps me still.

She touches her lips to mine. Only gently, for the briefest moment, but it sends me stumbling back, slipping from her hold.

Her laughter tumbles out freely. "Am I that bad a kisser?"

My breath is hard to catch. "That was... weird."

"It won't be when you do it to your girl." Standing, she grins. "You really are too cute."

Her limp is less pronounced than it was as she vanishes into the forest's early morning shadows, although I don't know how much of that is my own imagination clouded with new hope. For a moment, I simply stand there in stunned silence, watching her leave.

A bird chirps somewhere above. I jump around, but my nerves rapidly dissipate into a smile.

"Time to save a kingdom," I announce to the trees. "And maybe kiss a girl." They sound equally ridiculous said aloud. I set off southwards, responding to the birdsong with quiet laughter.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

So, who ships Rovaniel? Anyone?

Please, I'm joking, I'd rather you shipped him with Edita's ghost--

Fun Fact: Nathan was supposed to get that mask ages ago, but I kept delaying it. First, Ligari gave it to him along with the gloves, but that didn't quite fit, so it got moved to him buying/finding it in Threskeld. But then I deleted the chapter in which he was supposed to do that, so... now it's a gift from Rovena xD Even though she was never originally meant to see his eyes until she rescued him. Fun times.

Anyway, our boy finally gets to help out! We know how much he wanted that back in the cell. And also he might find his girl. We can hope for that *looks back at Chapter 16.5*

See you next chapter for *checks notes* ah yes :DD

- Pup