Alter roused from his vigil, peering at the sleeping Dance wearily. He had exhausted himself to the point where he drifted in and out of consciousness, praying his friend would still be there when he woke and not a pile of dust.

Dance was still there.

Even better, he was awake.
"How are you feeling?" Alter murmured.  The other stared at him with wide sockets.
"You.. saved my life." He breathed, a wheeze hitching in his breath.
"I've endured enough death, I couldn't handle my friend dying too, not when you're the only other familiar face here." He coughed after that, leaning forward in his chair to press his feverish skull to the blankets. A hand rested on it.
"How am I supposed to thank you?"
"You don't need to; I did what was only right."
"Have you eaten?"
"I was waiting for you to wake."
"Alter, how long has it been since you last ate?"
He groaned, staring at the closed door. "I don't know.. two days? Certainly not that long."
"You just said two days. I was about to die. How magic did you use on me? Don't kill yourself saving my lazy ass!" Dance broke into a wheezing cough after the brief moment of emotion.

Alter reach for him only to be waved off. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Agh, my skull…. Go eat something, ya dummy." He flapped one hand at Alter while pressing his other to his face. "Dance, I need to make sure you'll be okay."
"I'm fine! I'm not dying; I don't know how you did that, but I'm fine. Now I hafta make sure you take care of yourself.. numbskull."
Alter snorted, pulling a slice of pie from his inventory. "You're the numbskull; you were at death's door and haven't eaten." Dance sighed, glancing over.

He pushed himself upright, bones creaking. "Don't move-!" Alter chatsized. Dance shook his skull. "I can sit up. I can't believe you, Alter. I don't feel half bad compared to that. I thought I was gonna die, now I'm just.. achy."
"Fine. But eat. It'll help."
Dance glared up at him critically. "Only if you eat, too." Alter hesitated, then brought out another slice. "If it'll get you to eat, then I will."

They ate in silence, comfortable silence, at least.
Gertrude came bustling in the room, gasping to see Dance awake. "I expected you to sleep for at least a week!" She carried bandages over one arm. Dance shrugged, shoveling food in his mouth. "I'm surprised, too. Thought I was a goner." He smiled at Alter incredulously. "I never knew how good a healer you were." Alter coughed as Gertrude put a hand to her hip. "He wasn't alone. I forced him to go easy with that magic on the less lethal wounds. I understand he's weakened himself. Who do you think watched over him?" She asked while strutting over. Dance grinned gratefully. "Thank you for that. He's a bit too selfless sometimes."

"There is no such thing." Alter argued softly, taking the plates with tired arms. "Let me change your bandages." Gertrude ordered. Dance flushed, looking down to see he was shirtless, white linens wrapping most of his ribs tightly. "Are you sure you're exactly qualified t-to do that?" He stuttered.
"She's been changing your bandages the past two days." Alter explained, leaning back in his chair.
"I have. Alter explained that your ribs are.. important? They must be sealed."
Dance flushed harder, the bluish violet setting a glow across the sheets. "It's true.. they're how we breathe. Like.. how you breathe through lungs; we sort of have hollow bones with pockets." He huffed awkwardly, letting her approach.

She spoke while unwrapping him. "I won't question how that works; I doubt I could understand. But you are healing very quickly. Do you think you could be ready to travel by tomorrow; or is that too much?" Dance blinked. "Why do you ask?" She glanced at the door.
"Roran has.. excited the village. We are going to cross the Spine to the seaside port Narda, and take a ship to Surda, where we can oppose Galbatorix. You should have heard his speech, both of you. It was.. inspiring, for lack of a better word."

"Wow. I never thought you'd leave.." He trailed, running short on breath as she finished removing the first rag. "How bad is it, still?" He wheezed, leaning back on the headboard. Gertrude adopted a gentle tone. "Much better than yesterday. It really is remarkable, magic. So long as it is good." Dance chuckled weakly. "Do you think we're good? Because we are magic." She smiled, rubbing a stain off his face. "Yes, I think so. Enough that I was going to stay behind if you were unable to go in time."
He shook his skull. "I don't care how, I'm coming."

He glanced at his ribs. "I'm an idiot for thinking I could fight those things."
Alter shook his skull, regaining some of his former vigor. "Don't blame yourself. You were aggravated in the heat of passion; and it was a noble thing you did nonetheless." Gertrude nodded. "I only ask that you remember to think next time. Use your head; it's bigger than ours after all." Dance pouted at her, huffing. "Now I'm self-conscious. You're the people with small heads; even the humans back home had bigger heads."
Gertrude considered the fact. "That's interesting. I'll chalk it up to another difference between your Multiverse and Alagaësia."
Dance grunted, looking away as she unwound a slightly bloody bandage; one of the last. "I won't mind seeing more of Alagaësia, I guess. I dunno how I'll be able to walk by then, but I'll be damned if I hold ya back."

Gertrude smiled, eyes twinkling. "Then I'll get ready for the journey. You two best prepare yourselves."
"We will." Alter sighed contentedly.

…

The village was aflutter, so many mournful faces around them as they gathered their supplies. Alter was too weary to waste his energy helping them, settling for carrying Dance on his shoulders, the smaller passed out, draped over his skull. He was wearing a light grey cloak and black pants Elain knitted for him, in absence of his normal clothes. Alter followed Roran through the village, aware of the looks of awe and fear they both received. He knew they feared Roran, his haggard, haunted face and the men he'd slain were enough to frighten them. They feared him because he was a strange creature with magic, resembling death to them while he rescued another that was at death's door.
He pondered if Reaper knew of Alagaësia.

He'd been standing near a wall as the village gathered, when a lone man charged into the edge of the grouping. "You're all fools!" He shouted.
"I've held my peace through this madness, but I'll not follow a nattering lunatic with spirits of death at his back! If you weren't blinded by his words, you'd see that he's leading you to destruction! Well, I won't go! I'll take my chances sneaking past the soldiers and finding refuge in Therinsford. They're our own people at least, not creatures of living death and magic, or the barbarians you'll find in Surda." He spat after them and stormed off.

"Neither of us asked to be in Alagaësia, we are just managing with what we have. I'll not live in a world ruled by a tyrant with demons as his lackeys. I have respect for the honest and honorable. So I approve this venture and will help however I can." Alter explained in a raised voice, his weariness apparent. Roran nodded at him from a little ways off, gratitude in his eyes as he faced Horst again.
Albriech and Baldor soon took off in opposite directions.

Alter stood chatting with Roran and Horst, Dance awake and folding his arms on top of Alter's skull as they all conversed, tension in the air.
Suddenly Baldor came back, bringing Fisk, his wife Isold, and a horse that wasn't theirs. Alter felt a moment of pride as he recalled their names. The woman was running towards them.
"I am sorry we're so late, but Fisk had trouble closing up the shop. He couldn't pick which planers or chisels to bring." She laughed shrilly, sounding near hysterics. "It was like watching a cat surrounded by mice trying to decide which one to chase. First this one, then that one."
Horst smiled wryly. "I understand perfectly."

Roran growled, staring down the way Albriech had gone. "Where is he?"
Horst tapped him on the shoulder as he spotted his son. "Right over there, I do believe."
The young man was trudging up between houses, burdened by three heavy casks of beer. He had such a comical look on his face, several people laughed. Morn and Tara were on either side of him, carrying similar loads, a donkey and two goats carrying even more.
"They won't last a mile." Roran grumbled. "And they don't have enough food. Do they expect us to feed them or-" "I wouldn't worry about the food." Horst chuckled. "Morn's beer will be good for morale, and that's worth more than a few extra meals. You'll see."

Albriech deposited the heavy load as Roran addressed him. "Is that everyone?" They answered yes. Roran swore, punching his thigh, understanding that a few families were insistent upon staying. Alter rested a hand on his shoulder kindly. "They've made their decision; we have more than enough coming with us."

The human nodded, disappointed. "All right. There's no sense in waiting longer."
A wave seemed to wash over the people as the wall opened. It was time. Alter stood beside Roran, both carrying packs as Dance sat on his shoulders. "We ready?" The shorter asked from his perch.
Horst motioned from behind. "I think that you should go first, Roran."
"Wait!"

Fisk ran up, proudly presenting Roran with a black stained 6ft long staff with polished roots at the top and a bluish steel ferrule at the bottom, tapering to a dull point. "I made it last night. I thought that you might have need of it." He explained brightly.

Roran admired the staff, running a hand over it. "I couldn't have asked for anything better. Your skill is masterful.… Thank you." He breathed.
The carpenter just smiled and left.
"Dang. He made that in one night?" Dance marvelled.

Roran grinned at the staff before facing the mountain range and waterfall. Alter let him pause, aware that he was leaving the place he'd lived all his life.

Then he started forward, not looking back.
Everyone else soon began to follow.
To the unknown.