An arm flew over Kennen's head as they were peppered with splinters. Some of them stuck to his clothes but didn't poke him. Smoke covered the whole cart, blinding Kennen. Outside, footsteps and the noise of metal clanging rang across the forest. He felt an urgent tap in his arm. His eyes landed on Dalan's blue irises. The half-blood gave him a nod, enough signal to get Kennen to his feet. They scrambled to the edge of the cart where Kennen peeked.

The commotion was composed of men and women dressed in furs and patched armor attacking Trisa who defended herself with nothing but her black staff. Kennen watched the feathers in Trisa's turban whip in response to the wind generated by her motion. Her cape flapped behind her as she twirled and danced out of her attackers' weapons as well as in landing her own blows.

Dalan yanked Kennen off the cart with a forceful shove. One look from him told Kennen all he needed to know. Now's their chance to escape. While Trisa was distracted by whoever these people were. Once their boots hit the forest ground, they took off running. Where were they going? Kennen didn't know. He trusted Dalan enough to get them away from there.

They wove through the tree trunks, the forest thickening around them. Every once in a while, Kennen looked behind him to see if they were being pursued. The undergrowth remained still.

Then, the leaves above them burst into flames. Kennen yelped and urged Dalan to go faster, which the half-blood acknowledged with a nod and lengthening his steps. His footsteps rattled his mind and pounded against his chest. The muscles in his legs throbbed, fear burning its way in his throat. How would they escape these people?

He made the mistake of looking back just as he was greeted with a searing ball of light streaking towards him. A scream tore off his lips, unmasked and unfiltered. If the ice sprites back home heard him, they might make fun of him. But who in their right mind thought about that now, when their lives hung on a line which could snap at any time?

Kennen's world zipped by as he felt another strong tug on his arm. The ball of light whizzed inches away from his ear before slamming into a nearby bush. It erupted into a huge bonfire, the flames crackling with fervor against the leaves slowly turning to ashes. That...that was close.

"They're close!" a masculine voice grouched from somewhere behind them. It didn't sound like Trisa. Had she given up on her spoils? She ended up paying a fortune for Kennen and Dalan, too. A bitter laugh shook Kenne's shoulders. Even though it wasn't a time to be laughing, he couldn't help it. He couldn't believe how close he had been to hoping their captor fights off these hooligans and captures them again.

Kennen's never really going to be free, huh? Would he ever get home in one piece?

The undergrowth exploded again. This time, a long branch snapped off its parent tree and sped towards where Kennen was just passing through. He urged himself to go faster. When it fell with a great boom, only the edges of the shoots slapped his shoulder. A sigh of relief passed through his lips. That was close. How long would they need to run like this?

"Go ahead of me," Dalan hissed at Kennen after some time of tearing through the forest. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit had never been so loud. "I'll cover the rear. Hopefully, we're deep enough now to force them to lose us."

"What are you going to do?" Kennen knitted his eyebrows but he pushed past Dalan.

Dalan's grunt resounded behind Kennen. He seemed to have turned around and began running backwards. "Just a little spell," he said.

The air shifted around them, no doubt in response to Dalan's magic straining against the island. Kennen didn't exactly hear what spell it was, but fog erupted from the ground and rose up to the sky. Soon, albeit a little subtle, a thick carpet of white blocked most of the forest around Kennen. Confused screams and growls bled from the distance but he couldn't see past the veil Dalan had conjured.

"Let's go," Dalan's tone was urgent as his hand wrapped around Kennen's wrist again. It was the first time Kennen realized the half-blood towered over him, with Kennen's height barely reaching past Dalan's elbows.

Then, they were running again.

The forest and the thick blanket of white were their only companion even as the afternoon sky darkened and the moons crept into view. How long had they been running? When could they stop? Now that the silence replaced the sounds of pursuit, exhaustion crept into Kennen's senses. After some time, it was difficult to breathe without feeling like he would throw up.

"Dalan," he rasped. Even talking felt like a chore. "Let's rest."

To Kennen's relief, Dalan slowed down. As soon as he let go of Kennen's wrist, Kennen plopped to the ground. His chest heaved up and down, his mouth gulping mouthfuls of air. It was never enough to catch his breath.

"We seemed to have lost them," Kennen ran his arm against his forehead. His sleeve scratched against his skin and came up drenched. He craned his neck to the sky, noting the vast expanse of stars and moons creeping past the canopies. The fog had already thinned. Had they really been running for hours?

Dalan fell into place beside Kennen and crossed his arms. "We're still not sure if we really outran them," he said. "They are excellent trackers and won't give up on their targets that easily. We should be prepared for their eventual attack."

Kennen scratched his scalp. His hair had gone unruly and matted now. Being poached could do that to a person, it seemed. "We could go to the city," he looked at the mass of leaves and trunks beginning to look the same to him. "Or, at least, try to."

The half-blood rubbed his beard. "We could," he said. "After you've rested up. I wouldn't put it past Crozal to mess us up more."

"Crozal?" Kennen knitted his eyebrows. "What's that?"

Dalan pointed a finger to the sky. "Crozal, the big, crimson moon," he said as if it was something Kennen was supposed to know. "Dubbed as the Crimson Mother. She is known as the harbinger of bad luck."

Kennen's lips formed a small circle. "How many moons are out today?" he said. "I heard the sky changes color according to which ones were present."

"That's true," Dalan said. "The ones out right now are Kamara, Noglea, Samiri, and Murco, judging from how the sky looks a little ocher."

Kennen straightened his back, his curiosity chasing away any trace of exhaustion in his limbs. "Tell me more," he rolled his hand in the air. "I've always been dying to know about the sky. Do you know anything about the stars too? I only know they can be connected to something called constellations."

A small smile spread to Dalan's lips. "Are you looking for a lecture?" he asked. "Because a lecture is what you will get."

Kennen snickered. "Are you kidding? After al lthis, a lecture's the only thing that's going to keep me sane," he said.

As an answer, Dalan launched into a monologue about the moons and their well-known monikers. Over the course of the night, Kennen learned about Samiri being called the Bright Maiden and Murco, the Dark Reaper. When he asked why it was so, Dalan shrugged. "I'm just basing from what the myths passed down from the earliest fairies say."

"What about the moons not present today?" Kennen asked.

Dalan stuck his bottom lip out. "Aravid is a small moon appearing only for three days for an unknown interval of two to five days. It is referred to as The Siren of the Sea because of that," he said. "Leranna, the Golden Lady, is this mid-sized yellow moon. It looks really nice when it's out with Kamara but that's just me."

Kennen brushed the hair off his face. His sweat had long dried into faint traces in his skin. It was undoubtedly cool in this forest too when they're not running for their lives. Plus, the cool wind blowing through the undergrowth was a nice addition.

He was about to open his mouth when a booming sound exploded in the forest and the footsteps banged against the ground anew. Dalan leaped to his feet, pulling Kennen along with him and, just like that, they were running again.

"How did they find us?" Kennen asked no one even though he secretly hoped Dalan would know the answer.

The half-blood's theory was not anything better. "Maybe they just let us go so they could regroup and come at us more prepared," he said.

Kennen cursed—something he didn't know he could do until now. The words came off colorful and quite...varied. "So, what now?"

"We hope to reach a city," Dalan's answer was clipped and somewhat grim.

"Just who are these people?" Kennen yelled when another branch from the tall trees snapped off upon the force of an explosive spell. "Can't they get a proper job?"

Dalan tightened his grip on Kennen. "It earns more," he said. "Besides, some of them are in it for the thrill."

Kennen didn't speak. He couldn't, with the disgust and fear mixing into a bitter potion inside him. Instead, he kept his eyes in the distance, looking for any trace of light from lamps to signify the edges of a city. So far, he found none.

Dalan pulled him into a rough turn, his shoulder scratching against a tree trunk blocking their path. Kennen gritted his teeth. No use complaining now. A busted shoulder is better than greeting Pidmena.

Then, his leg flared with pain, sending him stumbling forward. Not again. It was the same burning sensation he got when Haven had stabbed him for trying to escape. Had they gotten him again? He didn't need to look. The blade was going to be there anyway.

Dalan ducked his head under his arms as another knife sailed past and embedded itself on a trunk they just passed. A couple of black-furred critters squeaked and scattered from their nest. The half-blood was huffing as he turned to Kennen who continued lumbering behind him even though his muscles already felt like they're being roasted.

"You good?" Dalan asked.

Kennen shook his head. "They got me," he said. "Same leg."

The half-blood nodded in understanding, having treated it himself way back when. "I'll delay them again," he said. "We should get some help."

Kennen gritted his teeth. Sweat began dripping down the side of his face, albeit a little more now. "I could seal us off with my synnavaim," he said. "It'd take a long while for them to claw through the ice."

Dalan scoffed. "And risk discovery of your people?" he asked. "I don't think ice sprites hid where you guys now reside just to let themselves be found again."

Kennen clenched his jaw. Of course, Dalan's that smart. He figured out Kennen's whole dilemma in just a few days. "Still, if push comes to shove," he reasoned. "I won't hesitate to call on my magic."

Dalan could only nod, a grim expression pasted on his face. "Fine."

Then, huge shadows zipped down Kennen's periphery. Ropes pulled taut and boots slapped the ground in ominous thuds. It came from all directions which meant only one thing.

They were surrounded.

Kennen could hear his breath in his ears and he didn't like the sound of it—strangled and to the point of being shallow. Dalan pressed his back against him, lowering himself into a fighting stance. The heathens stepped closer, cautious yet knowledgeable of their triumph. Kennen observed at least four people dressed in the same patched armor made from furs and peeling leather. One of them boasted a mutilated scar running down the side of his face and marring his neck.

Kennen's breath hitched.

The heathens moved, converging at them from all sides. Kennen called his magic to the surface and moved to raise his arms. They didn't obey. Dalan's alarmed cry rang in his ears as his knees knocked together and he flopped to the ground like a lifeless sack. His cheek slapped the dirt, the smell of upturned soil fresh in his senses. What's happening?

A flash of light and their attackers' advance was pushed back. Kennen maneuvered his neck to at least see the fight happening behind him. "Dalan, what's happening?" he asked aloud this time.

The half-blood fussed somewhere in Kennen's leg, muttering under his breath. Then, he looked back at Kennen. "It's naxtrace," he explained. "It's used to paralyze huge animals in Dwanzeig. Why would they use this much on a child?"

Kennen's head felt like it was being pumped with air. His limbs already felt cold. "Say," he said, amusement heavy in his tone. "Would you like to lend your knowledge to the Ice Capital? We could use someone like you who knows about this...naxtree."

Someone tapped his cheek. "Stay awake," Dalan's voice speared in Kennen's hazy thoughts. "Fight it."

Kennen ground his teeth, pushing back against the growing cloud in his mind. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of silver zipping towards Dalan. The half-blood's back was turned and Kennen's tongue had just started turning into steel.

He couldn't cry out in time.