"I can't believe it took us this long to get out of the Pass." Caltren, the map-keeper, shifted his parchment maps as he considered their path. 

Eric flexed his fingers as he watched Caltren's face scrunch in determination. His unit had noticed the markings, but none of them asked any questions. One quelling look from Samson and they'd all behaved as if nothing were different. Eric, however, had a harder time feeling normal.

The markings weren't just on his hands. They traveled up his arms to his shoulders, splitting as one line of each color joined to meet at his collarbone. More markings climbed up the sides of his neck, disappearing behind his ears. The rest of his body seemed untouched, but Eric wondered if it wouldn't spread before long.

They'd been in the Pass for weeks since he'd collapsed, and part of him wondered if it wasn't because of Laina - Phoenix - that they remained lost in the web of mountain trails.

Or perhaps it's me. Perhaps I don't want to see her again. Eric tilted his head to crack his neck, hoping to relieve some of his tension.  Nothing had felt right since that day - and not just because of the markings.

Ice flowed through his veins, though he couldn't say he felt cold or uncomfortable. He sensed the power settling inside him, waiting for him to call it forth again. His sword, which had long been part of his life, was now covered by a thin layer of frost. No ordinary frost, wiped away or warmed by the sun, but a frost harder than ice, yet thinner, like a dusting of protection over the blade.

It didn't abide by logic.

"Don't let it consume you," Eric said, almost as much to himself as to Caltren. "Tranchet's Pass is almost as living as Fangralee, touched by the same trees along the boarder with the other lands. Perhaps we weren't meant to leave until now."

"Still," Caltren cocked his head to the side, chewing on his lower lip as he studied his maps, "it seems strange." With a sigh, Caltren rolled up the parchment. "We should be exiting today if my markers are correct. We'll arrive at the mideastern base by midday at the latest."

"Sir." Jensa approached them. "Tyrella Tremaine is refusing to eat." 

Eric let out a grunt of frustration. Tyrella had been more trouble than she was worth - first with her attempt on her own life, and since then, desperate attempts to succeed the next time. She'd tried running and jumping off of the cliff's edge of one of the caves they'd rested in, but Roden had snatched her at the last moment. 

She'd also tried eating poisonous berries, only to be disappointed when Caltren informed her they were wild blueberries and perfectly safe to eat. Now, apparently, she thought she could starve herself.

"We'll need to pick up our speed. The queen will know how to keep Tyrella alive."

Jensa didn't step away, shooting a glance at Caltren, who hummed to himself as he secured his maps in their cylindrical canister. Caltren, Eric had long noticed, didn't have the heart for war or battle, but as they'd never been in any sort of conflict, Caltren could spend his time mapping out the country without interruption. 

"Caltren," Eric said, drawing the soldier's attention, "would you ensure the men are ready to leave?"

Caltren leapt to his feet and saluted. "Yes, sir." 

When he'd walked out of earshot, Jensa cleared his throat. "Sir, our scouts noticed something odd about the mid-eastern base. Something you may need to address. There seems to have been an...incident."

"An incident?" Eric arched a brow. In his opinion, Jensa was to be held at arm's length. The man's very presence brought back Eric's headache - something that had ebbed since the marks had appeared. He wasn't about to give Jensa any readable reaction, calculating as he watched Jensa squirm.

"I think you'd best see for yourself, Sir." 

The men moved out at once, Eric at the front with Samson and Jensa.  Caltren remained nearby, though his maps were no longer needed this close to the exit of the Pass. While it'd been estimated as midday, their increased speed brought them out of the pass while it was still morning.

At once Eric saw what Jensa's scouts had noticed, though he doubted any of them saw it with as much clarity as he did. His eyesight, which had already been exemplary, had sharpened.

The land before him lay scorched, the grassy plains blackened. A rickety structure stood in the center of the ash - the remnants of an execution platform, burned until only a few pieces remained. 

"What in hells?" Eric mumbled, narrowing his eyes. Questions flooded his mind. This base had been set up to catch the heir when he traveled through - why would it need an execution platform? They were meant to bring the heir to King Bainon. And what had happened to create such destruction?

Phoenix.  The name popped into Eric's head at once. Clenching his fists, Eric let out a low growl and marched forward, his men following behind him.

He was at the base within ten minutes, the charred grass crunching beneath his footsteps. Soldiers jumped to attention the moment they saw him, saluting as he went by. A man in a uniform with markings of a higher rank yelped as Eric drew near. He recognized him as Lieutenant Barto of the northern unit. He must have been promoted.

"Commander Lee," he said, bowing with respect. "Sir, I didn't know you'd be -"

"What happened here?"

Barto swallowed, his face paling. "A young woman with strange markings," his gaze slid to Eric's neck, "disrupted an execution. She set the platform on fire, and it spread before we managed to put it out. She and the prisoners escaped." 

"Why were you having an execution?"

"Traitors were sent to us from the capital. The queen requested we perform the execution to avoid any undesirable attention."

Eric frowned at Barto, his stomach souring. "Since when does Queen Narissa want to avoid a public execution? It's the best way to show others the consequences of crime and treason."

"These were, uh, special prisoners, Commander." Barto shifted his weight from one leg to another. "The messenger said they were Militia, and the queen didn't want to add fuel to the rumor already spreading in the capital."

A fair answer. The name of the Militia always sent whispers through the streets, causing fear for most those who lived in the eastern cities - places where Bainon wasn't viewed as the monster they believed him to be in the west.

"Who were they? These prisoners? Was one of them the heir?" Eric moved away from Barto, inspecting the fragile platform. Did she know them? Was that why she'd set them free? It didn't make sense. Laina didn't know anyone outside of Treywick.

"No, sir. Two women, two men, and a boy."

"A boy?" Eric rounded on Barto. "What job in the Militia could a boy possibly have?" Barto didn't answer, and Eric shook his head. The man only followed orders. A boy would be too young to be Tarvril Tremaine's son. 

Eric turned back to the platform, inspecting the ground around it. She'd done this? How could she be so powerful? Did she have magic like Narissa - a sorceress? No, she was something else.

What does that make me? Eric pushed the thought aside as something silver glinted in the sunlight.

Dropping down to a crouch, Eric scooped up a silver chain, twisted into the shape of leaves and branches. A bracelet - one he'd seen before.

"What's this?"

Barto leaned forward, inspecting the jewelry in Eric's hand. "A bracelet, sir."

"Where did it come from? Does one of your men prefer the finer things?" Eric held it up, allowing it to dangle before him, a seething anger frothing within him. 

"It must have belonged to one of them - the girl or maybe one of the prisoners."

It wasn't Laina's. "You said there were two women to be executed. Who were they?"

Barto's brow furrowed. "If I'm honest, one of them didn't seem like Militia material. She wept continuously, not stopping even as they carried her away."

"They?" 

"It was more than just the girl. There were others - a man moving too fast to see at times, a giant, and a young man skilled with a sword."

Eric ground his teeth together. So Maverick and Laina were together again - and the giant? Who was he to them, the man who would have killed him if it hadn't been for Samson?

"And the other woman? Young or old?"

"She was young. Not far from your own age."

Goosebumps covered Eric's arms. "Strawberry blonde, about this tall?"

Barto nodded. "She definitely was a traitor. She didn't cry or call out once. When I asked for her to plead, she said the only thing she'd done was upset the queen by breathing. I think her name was Abigail. The girl with the strange markings seemed particularly interested in her, risking her life when all the others were safe to get Abigail out."

Eric's fist clenched around the bracelet, and he sucked in a deep breath. He could see his breath as he exhaled, and though the days were colder, he knew this came from him.

Control it. Calm yourself.

Narissa promised.

"Abigail is safe, then." Eric said it with a deadpan tone, his heart lurching.  It'd been almost two years now since he'd last left Osha. With his time in each city and the traveling there and back - had it really been that long when it felt like it was yesterday? He could still see the hurt in her eyes as he told her he'd never see her again.

"We sent some men after them once the fire was under control," Barto continued. "They've been ordered to kill them all on sight."

Ice trailed down the bracelet, crackling as it covered the silver. Eric's blue eyes flickered to Barto's. "For your sake, you'd better hope they don't succeed."

Eric is not one to mess with. Lucky for Barto he was just doing his duty, otherwise me thinks he'd be d.e.a.d. 

Eric's headaches are gone, his powers are fine-tuning, and his markings are drawing notice. What do you think is going to happen now? Where do you think Eric will go next - after Abigail, or finish his mission to bring Tyrella Tremaine to Osha?