The ground slopes downwards, and we follow it, walking in stiff silence. Sarielle drops back, scanning the area behind with every second that passes, pulled taut by tension. Fiesi hurries several paces ahead, only slowing when we reach tree cover. I feel as if caught in a trance. I can do nothing but keep marching onwards, the crunch of footsteps jarring in my ears, bright specs dancing across my vision that draw the forest out of focus.

I don't notice that Fiesi has stopped until he catches my arm, yanking me to a halt. For a moment, I think he's shaking, and then I realise that the trembles are my own. The warm touch of his skin on mine does nothing to help matters.

Slowly, he lifts his hand and then curls it around the spear, giving it a gentle tug, easing it from my grip. I'm almost reluctant to let him take it. The moment its weight is released from my hands, my legs buckle beneath me, and I have to grab for the nearest tree to keep me upright. Dizzy waves cascade through me, my head spinning.

My nails dig into the bark. I press both palms against it, leaning my forehead in, trying to stop my legs from shaking.

A hand rests on my shoulder. Sarielle, supporting my back. I twist around to meet her eyes and see that they glisten, bright with unshed tears.

"I'm okay." The words crack. Pressing my teeth together, I flip around, reclining my back into the tree. Whatever held me like a steel rod in front of Harlow has dissipated entirely, leaving me shaken and ready to collapse. I squeeze my eyes shut. "I'm okay." I'm reassuring myself as much as her.

"Look at me." Her voice is brittle, but it snaps out, enough to make me obey. There's almost anger cracking her expression. I flinch back from it. "Why did you do that? I thought..." She pulls in a breath, swiping at her eyes. "I was so sure..."

"I had to." Dragging up the surety I felt before, I press it into my tone. "I couldn't let you die for me."

She steps forward, less than an arm's length away. Her hand lifts, then falls to her side again, although her gaze doesn't leave me. "I'd rather die protecting you than watch you die."

"But it's okay. I didn't die." I try for a smile, though it wavers far too much to be real. I want to reassure her more than this, but I can't. She won't die for me. I won't let her.

Laughter cuts the air. I jump, spine jolting into the tree as I turn towards the sound. Fiesi props himself up against a tree, eyes sparking with amusement. "You have to admit, that was utter genius. You saw their faces, right?" He chuckles again. "They just let us walk out."

Despite myself, my smile settles into something more natural. He's right. And I did that.

"It isn't over." Sarielle rocks back on her heels, looking down for a second as if to collect herself. "They'll be following soon enough. We need to get back to camp as soon as possible."

In an instant, Fiesi's grin vanishes. "Right." He almost seems to fold in on himself, a shadow falling over his face. "Back to camp."

Her gaze slices towards him. "You fulfilled your end of the deal. You're free to go."

He lets out a long sigh, pushing off the tree. There it is again. The hesitancy, the uncertainty. He sweeps a hand through his hair. "Say," he starts, another faint laugh drifting out with the word, "you wouldn't mind if I tagged along, would you? Just for a little while?" Light, but imploring, tightening towards the end.

They meet eyes. She frowns, studying him. I can't help it. Gripping the bark behind me, I shift forward. "I don't mind. You should come with us."

He pulls himself taller. "Well, I did save your life."

"Yes." I place back over him the image of Finlay, still not real but far less painful now that I can see reality's stamp hidden within it. He's not bad. He never was. I've no reason to fear this version of him. "You did."

Sarielle gives a small nod. "Fine." Her eyes flash fierce. "But--"

"I know," he says with a wave of his hand. "If I hurt Nathan, you'll kill me. I'm fully aware." He spins his spear between his fingers, turning away. "On that merry note, shall we continue?"

Blowing out a sigh, she nods. Her hand stretches towards me. "Can you keep walking?"

Bracing myself against the tree, I test a step forward. My legs shake under my weight, but they take it, and the world chooses not to sway this time. "I think so."

She takes my hand anyway, then releases it to pull me into her side, arm wrapping around the base of my shoulders. An embrace, of sorts. I shiver into it. She's warm, wonderfully so, and yet my skin crawls when she doesn't release. Even shackles won't convince my body that it can be touched.

Even so, I'm not strong enough to pull away, and so I let her guide me into a walking pace, picking up as we slide into a rhythm. Her stride is swift, carrying us past Fiesi and leaving him to trail after us. The ground is uneven, and at several points I stumble, boots feeling heavy and cumbersome. She catches me every time. Her grip is unfaltering. Once, when I trip over a broad tree root, she yanks me towards her with such force that I let out a pained squeak.

"Not too tight," I grind out.

She relaxes her grip instantly. Concern floods her gaze as she glances at me. "I'm sorry. Are you hurt?"

"Ribs," I offer tightly as explanation. Their ache hasn't ceased, but then neither has the pounding in my head or the scratch in my throat. I'm running on blind adrenaline to sweep back the constant pain, but eventually it's going to crash down on me. By now, Sarielle's support is all that keeps me upright.

We resume walking, but her attention remains on me. "Did they hurt you at all? Neyaibet?"

Automatically, I glance down at the shackles, swallowing thickly. She wouldn't understand. All that thought does is gnaw deeper into my chest, the pit yawning. "A little."

"I might have misheard this," Fiesi says, jogging to come up alongside me, "but did you say Rakis was your father?"

"That's what he told me. I don't know whether or not it's true." I think of him sitting upon the horse, his eyes on mine as I held the spear to my heart. It's impossible to decipher anything from him. Does he really care that I survive? Or is he simply so desperate for a weapon that he can't bear to see me die?

Fiesi shakes his head. "He can't be. There's no way you've got Cormé blood."

Disdain turns his tone bitter. Sarielle shoots him a glare over my head, but I'm more focused on his choice of words. "You don't know?"

His brow furrows. "Know what?"

"Harlow. He's Jeía."

Step faltering, he stares at me. "You're sure?"

"Very sure." Subconsciously, I fidget with my binds, itching at the part of my wrist I can get at. "I've seen him use his magic."

Fiesi scuffs his boots over the soil. "Adeía too?" At my nod, he growls under his breath. "I should have sensed that. I should..." He lifts his gaze to me and winces, swallowing whatever the rest of the sentence might have been.

My ribs twinge as Sarielle's grip shifts, urging me faster. I force my legs to follow suit. "I hope you both plan on explaining all these magical terms to me." She finishes with a smile, but the words wind tight.

"Of course," I start, but Fiesi replies louder.

"No way. It's more entertaining keeping you in the dark."

She glowers. "Maybe if I understood--"

"But you're not supposed to understand." Humour battles with the softer edge of a plea buried in his voice. Sadness, even. My heart twists. "It's the rules."

She throws him another sharp glance. "By your rules, I'm guessing a lot of things aren't supposed to happen, and yet here we are."

He shrugs. "You're not wrong. I might as well fully commit to my new--" Suddenly, he tenses, halting without warning. I stumble to a stop to watch him, dragging Sarielle with me. "Did you hear that?" he asks.

"What?" Her voice drops automatically, and I notice her hand rests over her sword hilt. I feel for my belt despite knowing I have nothing to reach for. I've lost both my weapons to Neyaibet. All I can do is huddle further into her side and let my gaze dart around.

I see nothing but shadows, but a moment later I catch the faintest rustle. A shuffle of movement in the shrubbery.

"Stay here. I'll check ahead." Fingers scampering along his spear's shaft, azure sparks dancing at their tips, Fiesi creeps forward. He spins a full circle before stepping through the brambles in front and vanishing into the undergrowth.

The quiet left in his wake is stifling. Retreating into Sarielle, I flex my hands, gloves creasing. There's still a distant urge there to reach for dark flame and wind it over my fingers, but only empty air meets my grasp, nothing but fear prickling over my skin.

Has Harlow caught up already? I'm not sure I can pull off the same stunt a second time. I'm still shaking from how close the spear came earlier.

"Is someone there?" I whisper.

She is rigid at my back. "If there is, they made a mistake coming after us." Her sword scrapes as it slides from its sheath.

My fists clench. I hope she's right.

The sun slips behind a cloud, casting the forest in shades of grey. My heart races. When my flame was active, I was always hyper-aware of everything, feeling every presence like flashes amongst shadows until they overloaded my senses. Now, the emptiness sweeps all that away. There's no way of knowing what lurks beyond my shaky vision. I'm not sure which is more terrifying.

Sarielle gasps sharply. It cuts short, driving a serrated blade through my chest. As if it hooks around my heart, I whirl, the cry of her name rising to my lips. It tumbles away as shock seizes my throat.

She's already stumbling, collapsing into the nearest tree with a feeble attempt to catch herself on the trunk. Her eyes are hazy. Her sword slips from her fingers like liquid. Panic thrashes within me, urging me to run over and help her, but fear melded with my own weakness freezes me in place. There's nothing I can do regardless. All I can do is sweep the shadows, conscious of my noisy pants.

There's no-one there. But there must be. "Where are you?" I call, wincing at the way my voice splinters.

"Right behind you, little monster."

I nearly trip over myself in my haste to spin around. The first thing I see is her grin. Then the rest of her almost seems to materialise, as if she tears from the shadows themselves to stand before me, navy cloak rippling in the breeze. It's an illusion, of course, her own swiftness painting her with the features of a predator, but still icy claws skitter over my spine at the mere sight of her gaze.

Giulia. I should have recognised the patter of her light step.

My gaze flicks to Sarielle's sword, discarded in the grass. If I'm quick, I could lunge for it. But I'm not quick. And I can't fight, not like this, not someone like her.

Besides, my feet are already making the decision for me. I bolt into the trees. There's no way of knowing whether she follows, but she must, however silent. The sight of her echoes in my mind enough to form noise.

My ankles tear through brambles, shredding the material around my ankles, pain searing the skin beneath like miniature teeth. Each one tries to yank me to the ground. I keep running. No matter how much I stumble, feet pounding with jarring force, forest ahead shifting and blurring until I'm racing blindly into swaying undergrowth, I have to keep moving. I won't be trapped. She can't chase forever.

But I can't run forever, either. Perhaps I was wrong before, when facing off against Harlow. Perhaps I'm not strong enough.

There's no exact cause. My knees buckle, and then they're slamming into the earth, leaving me sprawled amongst the long grass. I don't have the energy to scramble upright another time. My ribs scream as I gasp for breath. Desperation like faked fire in my veins, I claw at the ground, kicking out at nothing and yet the effort drains me. I'm drowning in my own exhaustion.

I should have run after Fiesi. The thought tumbles through my mind, hopeless, too late.

Giulia slows to a gradual stop, tossing her sword from right to left. Her breathing has hardly changed in pace. She's toying with me. Eyes twinkling, she sweeps over me, pacing past my head and round to my other side. I'm sure my heart will fully crack open my ribcage and burst free.

"Not quite so brave now," she remarks.

Her voice trickles over my skin, beads of unsettling warmth that blur my thoughts. Rolling over, I drag myself into a crawl, getting barely a pace before she appears over me again. Her foot connects sharply with my side, shoving me onto my back again. I don't have the breath to do anything more than hiss and take the jolt of pain.

The tip of her sword flashes as it swings over my face. There's no intent in the swipe, but I shrink back into the earth, pinned by my own body.

She skips right over my chest, then spins on her heel, still grinning. "I take it you've not reconsidered our little deal?"

I force my head to shake. My fingers dig into the dirt. "Never."

Her lips quirk. "I told you to be careful with that word."

"There's no need," I bite out. "My answer will never change." There's nothing she can threaten me with to alter it. Pain I can endure. Death is an escape from her leash regardless.

"Is that so?" Twirling her sword, she taps it against my left bind, the dull clang grating at my nerves. "You do realise Harlow is the only one who can remove these?"

Ice gnaws in my chest. The weight of the metal seems to double, pulling at my wrists. "I know," I manage.

Her blade scrapes over the shackle's surface. "Then you're content to wear them for the rest of your life?"

Hearing her speak it aloud is enough to close up my throat. The ache sinks, the void in my chest inching wider. Never have the gloves felt so rough against my skin, the leather a prison that digs between my fingers.

"That's what I thought." She flicks up her sword, returning it to her right hand as she studies me. "For all your talk, you're just like anyone else. You hunger for power. You can't cope when it's taken away." Crouching down, she reaches out, tracing my jaw. I flinch. Her touch is cold. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," she whispers. "Power is what drives this world. And I could give you more power than you can imagine."

My fists clench, balling into the dirt. "I don't want power." My voice is so feeble, thin and breaking. "I just want my flame back."

She draws back, just a little, her eyes bright as stars in the dappled daylight. "I can give you that too." She sighs, the breath so long I feel it against my cheek. "If you change your mind, that is. Otherwise we'll both languish short of our full potential."

As she rises again, I battle to find something of any force to retort with. "You can't give me freedom."

"Power is freedom, little monster." Her sword trails through the air, the barest length from my chest. I hardly dare breathe. "Take a moment to imagine it. A whole kingdom, a whole world, at your fingertips. You can shelter those you're fond of, and the rest..." Her smile widens, shaped with darkened joy. "The rest you can destroy."

"I don't want that," I growl. I can ignore the aching pang, the distant whine of my flame at such prospects it no longer has the ability to deliver. I don't want that. I repeat it over and over in my head, suffocating all else in its echo.

If destruction is freedom, then I don't want to be free. All I wish is to be free from Neyaibet's silver thread, from Harlow's piercing stare, from Giulia's smile.

"I'd rather die than be your weapon," I hiss, finding strength in that surety. "I'd gladly die."

All she does is pull her sword back towards her, smirking into the blade. "I'm not sure your Oscensi girl would like that." Lifting it, she spins, her strike so swift it blurs. I hear the clang a moment before her cloak settles from the sudden movement and a second blade comes into focus.

A curved blade, with a sky-blue hilt.

Sarielle wavers, stumbling to keep her sword held upright. Surprise shows plain on her face. She wasn't expecting to be anticipated. Nevertheless, my heart flutters, alive with relief at the sight of her. She's okay. She's here to protect me.

It descends into a nervous flap as Giulia steps in towards her, shifting her blade so that Sarielle can't break free. "In fact, why don't we ask her?" Their eyes meet, a general's triumphant gaze pouncing on a fearful soldier. "You don't want to see him die, do you?"

Sarielle clenches her jaw. "I'll see you die."

She draws back, then lunges at Giulia's chest. Her blade is blocked with a simple blow, but there's enough force for them both to stumble back from each other, Giulia righting her backward step at my feet. She sighs, passing her sword to her left hand while she gives her right a shake.

"So young," she murmurs, head cocked, "and yet so feisty. They do give the children some training, then."

"I'm not a child," Sarielle snaps. Gripping her hilt, she dives forward again, a short clash of blades ensuing before she is parried away. Giulia makes no attempt to advance; her stance remains firm and unmoving, feet planted as she stands with her back to me. She's playing again, confident in her own ability. Too confident. It'll be her undoing.

She's underestimating Sarielle. Or maybe she's forgetting me.

With a growl, Sarielle swipes, harder and fiercer this time. Giulia rocks back a fraction to take the hit before seamlessly switching hands to knock back the sword. I tense, bending my knee to pull my leg back, watching in the corner of my eye as Sarielle adjusts her hilt and dashes to the other side to attempt another strike. Her eyes flash. They flick to me for the briefest moment. I make sure to meet them, gathering all the strength I can until it rushes through my veins with the frenzied impulse to keep her safe.

My boot connects with Giulia's ankle. The earth is still soaked from the previous night's downpour, and so she slips, momentarily thrown off balance. She doesn't fall, but it's irrelevant. The brief opportunity is enough for Sarielle to sink her blade into the general's side.

She jerks as she yanks it out. Giulia inhales sharply, clasping the wound. Neither of us check to see much more of her reaction. Sarielle's hand closes over mine, and she pulls me upwards, barely giving me time to get my feet under me before she's hauling me back through the forest. My legs seem to catch on every thorn, too heavy to dodge. All my weight is pressed into her grip. Even with it, I'm sure every step will be my last.

"Are you alright?" she calls breathlessly.

My reply has hardly formed in my throat before it is jolted away.

Something thuds into my lower back. The next I know, I'm keeling forwards, my hand slipping from Sarielle's. My chin bangs into the earth, and stars dance before my eyes.

Faintly, I hear her shout, but all else fades away under the searing agony that erupts, slicing deep into my flesh. I don't even have the energy to cry out. Dark wisps snare my vision. My body simply gives in, too weak, too tired. There's too much pain.

The last thing I feel is the sensation of being lifted, and of warmth beside me. Comforting warmth. I curl into it, although it's already slipping away, stolen by the void beyond.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

And once again, Nathan dramatically passes out--

Darn Giulia deciding to pop up again and remind us that everything still sucks. I really don't give Nathan a break. Sorry, my boy :/

She's kind of right, though. Can he really cope without his flame like this? *sips tea*

- Pup