When Bentley arrives with my bag, I try my hardest to hand over at least a few coins, but Cody remains true to his word. In the end, it's me who backs down. Goodbyes pass quickly, my gaze wandering to the low-hanging sun staining the western cloud.

Or maybe my hastened retreat is due to his second use of Nathan. The shortened name, the nickname, the one that shows trust. I can't handle trust just yet.

I exit Katamen along the most southern path I can pick out, my arms wrapped around my middle to keep out the sudden chill creeping into my veins. The sooner I can slip into the forest's shadows, the better. My bag's straps dig into my shoulders, its additional load dragging at my step. My flame begs to break free from my skin.

Apparently, the world has other ideas.

Just as the spiky trees loom into view and earth starts to patch the cobbles at my feet, I catch the rush of water, similar to the cascade that pours into the pool at the place I first entered. Yet this one doesn't drop from slopes above, I soon discover. This stream winds out from behind the trees and slings past the furthermost house, disappearing into a rocky nook of the hill that rises up to my left. Its waters mirror the dull grey of the sky above. But it isn't the sight or the noise of the water that stops me in my tracks.

It's the sound I find just below it, the murmur of voices tangled with the faint scrape of blades.

Dashing to the left side of the street, I shrink against the stone-brick house, allowing a single step before I freeze again, listening. It's the Oscensi soldiers. Friendly voices, yet my heart still races at the idea of them seeing me here. Or Dalton seeing me here, more to the point. I don't want him to know I'm alone again. I don't want his curiosity, his concern.

My fingers curl into a groove between the bricks. If I sneak past quietly enough, stick to the shadows, they might not see me. Once I'm in the forest, I can run until the distance hides me from them.

But running means giving up my last glimpse of Sarielle.

The edges of their words tug at me, pricking at my ears. Pressed against the wall, I creep forward, placing my boots as soundlessly as I can. One in front of the other, the stream growing louder and closer, until those words take shape.

"... to move as fast as possible." Dalton's voice, pulled low by caution.

"I know that." Harper, words taut as if the whisper is a strain to produce. "But would it really slow us down so much? We're more than capable of--"

"It won't always be this easy," Dalton counters, but Harper isn't finished.

"Captain, forgive me, but you saw how grateful they all were today. We saved lives. Isn't that what we're in this for?"

Dalton is quiet for a moment. "Believe me, Harp." I shuffle a step closer, reaching to catch his hushed tone. "I'd love to save everyone. But we can't. Saving a little mountain town isn't going to win us back the kingdom."

Harper's sigh drifts around the corner. "You're right. I just... don't like it."

Dalton chuckles dryly. "I'd be worried if you did. And I understand your concern. But we can't stop again. It's vital we get south."

South. I lean forward, clinging to the wall. Its end is a bare pace away.

"Save the important people, then save the rest," Harper says. I shift up against the corner, chest resting into the bricks, building up the courage to peer around.

In the corner of my eye, Dalton's shining hilt slips in and out of view. "Once we're over the border, we'll be able to figure everything out. All I'm focusing on for the moment is getting us all there alive. That's a challenge enough."

"Let's just hope they're alive, too," Harper mutters. I twitch. My fingers tap at the wall's edge.

"All the more reason for speed. Are you ready to go?"

Dalton raises his voice, offering the question to the whole regiment. The talking dips lower in volume, though I hear a few snatched replies, notes of agreement. It's now or never.

Bracing myself, I step out into the open, pushing away from the wall. "Wait."

They fall entirely silent then. A dozen faces turn my way, eyes piercing me like the glistening blades a few of them still hold over the stream. The water ripples, recently disturbed, cloudy wisps of scarlet drifting away with the gentle current.

I swallow hard. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Yet they're watching me, expectant, and so I press on. "I want to come with you."

Dalton moves towards me, hand half-raised, but it's Nash who speaks first. He steps out from behind Harper, screwing the top onto a filled water container. "And why would that be?"

"I..." Traitorously, my gaze wanders past him, landing on Sarielle at the opposite side of the stream as she shakes a few clear droplets from her curved sword and slides it into its sheath. Even now, she's looking at the blade rather than me. I force my focus to land back on Nash, then flick to Dalton. "I heard you say you're heading south, to Akurin?"

Collectively, they stiffen. Dalton's expression is guarded. "That's right."

"I'm going there too, so..." I scratch at the back of my neck, feeling my sense of purpose leak away. Grabbing for it again, I hurriedly add, "And you're looking for the royals?"

He exchanges a glance with Harper. "I didn't say that."

"But you are." I don't sound as certain as I feel. Glancing back at the street, confirming its emptiness, I step forward, bringing me only a pace from Dalton. "I want to help."

"I don't mean to be rude," interjects another soldier, a blonde woman tall and slim as a needled tree, "but what help could you possibly be?"

"Another one to constantly patch up," Nash mutters, folding his arms.

"I'll patch myself up, if that's the issue," I snap back before I can help myself. If you'd stop showing up and give me a moment alone.

Waving out an arm, Dalton steps in front of them, commanding silence. He ducks his head in apology. "I'm sorry, Nathaniel, but they have a point. We're in a very dangerous situation right now." He glances back at his regiment, and I notice him briefly lock eyes with Sarielle. Perhaps he's seeking confirmation from her, support. I silently beg her not to give it. "It isn't safe to travel with us. I wouldn't want to see you hurt."

My jaw clenches. "I'm not useless."

His expression is almost pained. "You're just a kid."

"Weren't you?" I retort, fire burning at the back of my throat. I swallow hard to push it down. It's foolish, and yet the constant need to push back against Dalton's sympathy, prove myself better than he thinks, thrashes wild. I sweep my gaze over them all. "Weren't you all kids when you joined? Aren't you now?"

Dalton said he was nineteen. Sarielle must be somewhere in between that age and my own, surely? And don't the others seem similar? Clear, smooth skin, eyes still wide and bright, curved features not yet eaten at by long years.

Maybe I'm wrong. I would have plenty of reason to be. But I won't let them see that doubt. All the confidence I can muster arcs my stance as I stare back at Dalton.

But it isn't him who answers.

"He's right." Sarielle's voice, singing over the burble of the stream as she crosses it in one leap. Her plait has come loose, allowing her hair to flow freely over her shoulders in a cascade of golden locks. She brushes it back as she reaches Dalton, her eyes still on him. "He's of draft age. Besides, we need all the help we can get."

His eyes flick between me and her, lips pressed into a tight line. Nash pounces on the silence. "Age isn't everything." Leaning back, he narrows his gaze at me. "Do you have any training in combat?"

I try to pull myself taller. "No, but--"

He cuts me off with a snort. "Nothing? At least tell me your father taught you how to use a sword."

"Or mother," the tall woman adds sharply with a sideways glare at him.

"I taught myself," I say, curling a hand around my sword's hilt, though I feel the words crumble in my mouth. I can't fight, not like they can. The amusement reflected in each of them confirms that.

But fighting isn't everything. I'm more than that. "Look, I might not be soldiers like the rest of you, but I can learn." Fire swirls in my stomach. "If you don't let me go south with you, I'll go on my own. We'll see who gets there first."

Nash raises a brow. "You want to race now? So very mature--"

"Alright, alright!" Dalton lifts both hands into the air. After a moment, he sighs, the tension in his shoulders deflating as he lets his arms fall to his sides again. He turns to me. "Nathaniel, you can travel with us."

I can't help the delight that creeps out into my smile. "Thank you, Captain Dalton. I promise, I--"

"But," he adds, a stern note overtaking his tone, "you must understand that you are not one of my soldiers. It is my foremost priority to keep them safe. Heaven forbid it, but if a moment comes when I have to choose between saving your life and saving the life of, say, Harper..."

"I understand." I nod, hardly surprised by the idea. "I'll take care of myself."

A smirk pulls at Nash's lips. "Does that mean if he does something stupid, I can let him bleed? He'll learn that way."

I'm about to bite back again that I'm perfectly capable of healing my own wounds, that a little blood doesn't bother me, when Sarielle's swift steps steal the breath from my throat. She shoves him in the side, causing him to unfold his arms to maintain balance. My heart doubles its pace.

"You'll be a decent human being," she snaps. "Or I will, if you're too busy working a stick up your backside to bother with decency." She turns, her gaze finally settling on me, and I have to make a physical effort to close my mouth. Our eyes are meeting for the first time in years. She might not be seeing my true eyes, but what does it matter when hers are such sky-lit pearls?

It's some relief when she looks back to Dalton a moment later; I must look a fool, frozen by her mere glance. "I'll vouch for Nathaniel," she says with enough force to send a shiver through my lungs. "I'll train him as we travel. If you'll allow that, Captain?"

Dalton nods slowly, appearing almost as startled as I feel. "Very well." He clears his throat. "He'll be under your watch, Sarie."

The shortened name itches at my skin. None of the others seem to use it, and yet he does constantly, shaping it with every bit of the trust Fiesi once offered me. Except Dalton's words nag at me for a different reason. Not because his trust is false, but because it thrums whole and true, rooted behind his eyes whenever they drift her way.

My chest tightens. I take in a shallow breath and wrap my hand around my hilt. "I won't let you down." My voice is directed at Dalton, but I find myself looking at Sarielle.

And she looks back. The slightest smile brightens her expression.

"Alright," Dalton calls. "Let's get moving. Nathaniel, stay close."

He gestures to Harper, who shoulders his pack and marches away from the stream, leading the other soldiers with him. Nash grumbles something I can't hear and stalks after them, the tall woman by his side. Dalton releases a heavy sigh and follows, reaching out for Nash's shoulder. When the healer jerks around, he makes a pacifying gesture, his calm words quickly fading into the sea of footsteps and chatter. I kick myself into action and hurry in their wake before I can be the last one to move.

There's already another soldier between me and Dalton -- the one who was talking with Cody earlier -- but before I can nudge aside her swinging bow and dart past her, Sarielle slips in on my left. I stumble, close to seizing up. It doesn't help when she grabs my wrist to steady me. Her warmth seeps through my bare skin, pulsing in my veins with the force of sunlight.

The shade of the forest falls over us, yet I'm sure my face is burning. Extracting my hand from her touch, I rub it over my forehead, leaving a couple of seconds before I dare glance at her.

"I apologise for my regiment," she says quietly, leaning in closer, our words a hidden secret. Heat crawls down my neck. "Tensions are high at the moment. We've all been on edge ever since we heard... well, you know." Her gaze drops to the ground.

The castle was her home. My hand hovers, debating whether to pat her shoulder or do something of comfort, before I retract hesitantly. "It must be hard."

She shrugs. "To be honest, I'm just grateful we're all still alive." She laughs, lightening the statement with a smile, but I sense the dark truth behind it. Still, I smile back. I'm beyond grateful for that too, though I swallow the thought.

"I'm Sarielle, by the way." She holds out a hand. I hurry to shake it, savouring the way her soft fingers curl gently over my palm. "Welcome to the team, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel. It's so odd to hear that false name spoken in her birdsong voice. But I have to remind myself that she doesn't really see me, the memories, not like I do. All she sees is a green-eyed stranger in a mask. Nathaniel is no-one for her to fear.

Maybe it's a good thing she doesn't recognise me. We can start over, build an easier bridge not severed by darkness and cell bars. I can know Sarielle, not the foreign girl who chases away the shadows.

Our grip breaks slowly, my gloved fingertips reluctantly dropping from hers. I rub them together. Her warmth lingers on their surface. "Actually," I start, "you can call me Nathan."

"Okay. Then welcome, Nathan." She ducks her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear as the dappled sunshine glides over her, eyes still darting in my direction. "I'd say you can call me Sarie, but... only Dalton really does that, and it might be weird. But I don't know." She laughs again. "Whatever you like."

"No," I say, coaxing her head back up. "I like Sarielle. It... it's pretty."

Her eyes sparkle, a sunlit sky I doubt this winter can offer. "Thanks, I guess."

Silence falls, our gazes meeting. My throat dries of words. I swallow, searching for something to say. There's so much I want to tell her, but how to do it subtly? How to convey how excited I am to have seen trees and grass and the sun and the high rises of the mountains without arousing suspicion? Will she like to hear about the things she already knows, anyway?

She makes the decision for me by looking away. Another delicate chuckle falls from her lips as she casts her gaze over the heads of her fellow soldiers, pushing up a little on her toes to see over the archer in front. She's taller than me, but most of the others still cast shadows over her. Yet she did tell me that the smallest birds were often the ones with the loudest calls and biggest attitudes. I'd be willing to bet that they're also the most beautiful.

"There's camp," she says, shading her eyes as she points to a spot I can't see. "A few more minutes."

"Okay," I say absentmindedly. I don't even try to follow where she gestures, for we're passing under a break in the canopy, and the resulting rays spread the gold from her hair in a radiant glow.

She doesn't need to know who I am. She doesn't need to love me either. It's enough to be able to lay eyes on her again, to remind myself of her every curve.

Nathaniel and Sarielle. Names and closeness and no need to be wary. So different from before, yet my smile comes as it always did, as instinctively as breathing.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

Fun Fact (wow haven't done one of these in a while lol): Originally, Dalton was going to mention they were going to Akurin just as they were leaving, and then this whole situation went down while they were still in Katamen with Cody there. But I couldn't find a way for him to say it naturally, so we resorted to eavesdropping instead. Because yes, we cannot get away from this lot, they're here to stay xD

At least Nathan has company now. Always good. As long as they don't, like, find out his secret and try to kill him idk that would be pretty bad--

On the plus side, Nathan and Sarielle interactions *bulbacries* finally *bulbcries*

- Pup