The fire was crackling loudly in the silence of the night. Everything further away than a few steps was cloaked in blackness. Nume and Kran were sitting close to the fire to dry their clothes and warm up, Raf'ney-krush was standing a little further away. He hadn't spoken a word since they'd come here. The two others hardly dared to whisper. They could no longer see the gseirut, it was probably asleep nearby, and the baymout had gone on a hunt.

The warmth of the fire reminded Nume of her life back in the tribe. She suddenly felt something inside her, something she had never felt before. During the last days, she'd thought more and more about her home but it was only now that she realised how much she missed it. Of course there were things going wrong, of course change had to be done, but it was still her home, her family. She could run away from them physically but in her heart, she would never abandon them. Nume would always be a phraio. Thus the guilt for all phraio's deeds lay upon her shoulders, too. And on those of Kran.

Kran stared into the flames. He refused to speak because he knew his voice would break if he tried. A sudden sadness had captured his heart. He'd seen it in Nume's eyes, too, but he didn't want to make it worse by talking about it. So he just sat there and tried not to think about his mother and father. He tried not to see his little sister's round face and he tried not to imagine her crying once he'd left them all behind. A tear rolled down his cheek but he wiped it away hastily.

Raf'ney-krush was disgusted. Disgusted by the phraio and their sentimentality. But mostly by himself. The phraio part in him echoed their sadness. He hated it. He had learned to shut his feelings off centuries ago. Only the presence of other phraio could now still make him feel things he didn't want to feel.

Most of the time, he kept away from all tribes. But sometimes he needed something from them; clothes, a map or a job to kill his boredom and earn the money to buy the previously mentioned things. Then he'd go to one of their bigger markets where there were always some phraio to be found. Different ones every time. The only jobs they ever had for him where of a man-hunting nature. What else would they need a dretho for? Most of them knew that he was the last of his kind, but they didn't know who he was.

The only reason for them not to have killed him yet was the fact that he always wore a sword, two daggers, some poison in a tiny bottle and some explosive powder with him. The rumours of him nearly killing a foolish young phraio a century ago had spread across all of K'haren nearly instantly. Ever since, nobody had dared to attack him. Well, nobody except for those he hunted down. But he couldn't really blame them, after all, they usually feared for their lives. None had ever really hurt him. One had given him a scar across his forehead, another had broken off a part of one of his horns. The latter didn't survive his trip back to the tribes...

Nume saw a slight smile on Raf'ney-krush's face when she looked over to him. She didn't dare to ask what he was thinking about but she wanted him to stop smiling so she raised her voice and said: 'Where are we going next?'

'You? Well, unless the siren tells you otherwise, you're going straight home. You have a message to spread.' Raf'ney-krush replied absently.

'You think that's going to work? Do you really believe we can just go to the tribes, tell them "hey, what you're doing is horrible, you have to stop living the way you do, it would actually be best if you just left K'haren instantly!" and then they'll listen?' Kran sneered.

'No. And that is not what they are supposed to do.'

'What isn't?' Nume wondered.

'Leaving. There is no point in them leaving K'haren, they'll just find another place to destroy. What's the point in that? You really must see the big picture...' the words left Raf'ney-krush's mouth before he noticed that he was quoting his old master. He regretted it instantly. It made him feel.

'Alright, so what are we supposed to tell them?' Nume asked. Raf'ney-krush hesitated. 'You don't know either, do you?' she concluded.

'No. Ask your siren. It is her plan after all.' He spat.

'But you seem to know way more about it than we do.' Kran pointed out.

'Yes, because I'm not as blind nor as foolish as you are.'

'You are half phraio, you carry just as much responsibility as we do!' Nume replied angrily.

Raf'ney-krush hissed something inaudible. He came over to them with just two big steps, grabbed one of their arms' each and dragged them with him out into the darkness. Then he came to a sudden halt. He waited for their eyes to get used to the dark. Then he pointed at the faintly visible ruins in front of them and said: 'This isn't my fault! I was just a child, I didn't know what to do! They wouldn't listen to me. I was just a child...'

'We weren't even born.' Nume said, rubbing her arm where he'd held it.

'No, you weren't. But you have lived with the tribes all your lives and thus you too are responsible for the harm that was done within these years. Even if we don't count the time when you were just children yourselves.' Raf'ney-krush whispered.

'You had centuries to tell them to stop. Why didn't you?' Kran said angrily.

Raf'ney-krush could only laugh at this. It was a cold and bitter laugh. Fool, he thought to himself. 'Of course I tried. But have you ever seen a phraio willing to listen to a dretho? For that is all I am to them. They would never acknowledge me as one of their own.'

'You said they.' Nume started. 'So you exclude us then. For yes, I have seen some phraio willing to listen to you. We're right here, we haven't run away nor do we refuse to believe you.'

'You are only here because of the siren. We all are. After all, there's no chance to escape your fate once a siren is on your heels. She wouldn't leave us alone for one moment if we refused to help her.'

'Then we should maybe stop fighting and start figuring out what to do. Sethara isn't here to tell us so this once, it might be upon us.' Nume said slowly and calmly.

'You said we should go back to the tribes, what did you have in mind for yourself?' Kran said equally calmly. Raf'ney-krush glanced at him, turned around and walked back to the fireplace. The others followed him in silence.

'I have some old friends to find. Actually, foes. But they will still help us. Especially once I tell them about that bloody siren...' Raf'ney-krush said after a long while.

'They will believe you?' Nume asked.

'No, probably not. But I still have this here with me.' He replied, drawing his sword. It was shining brightly in the fire's light.

'I don't think that's the right way...' Kran started, but Nume's short glance made him shut up.

'Can we come with you?' she didn't give him time to reply. 'The phraio won't listen to us. There's no way that's just going to happen. If I get you right then what they have to change includes every aspect of their lives. We can't just ask them nicely, that won't help. We would have to show them how, we'd have to teach them. But we can only do that if they accept us. And we are outcasts. Nobody will listen to us. By the gods, they've even sent you after us. They're probably going to kill us at sight.'

'They wanted you alive.'

'So they could kill us in a ritual. It's called Parmetho. Explicitly for traitors...' Kran mumbled. When the others stared at him, he added: 'It includes some strangling, hanging, losing limbs, stabbing and burning. And in the end your remains are fed to the wolves.'

'That's not so nice...' Nume whispered. Then she looked at Raf'ney-krush again with big eyes. 'Can we please come with you, Raf? I don't want to die.'

He stared at her, somewhere between rage and pity. Raf'ney-krush knew their crime. He didn't consider it bad enough to deserve death. But it was their own fault. Had he not needed their help so badly, he would just have brought them back and left them there. It was not his responsibility. Well, now it was. Of course he couldn't send them back. Without the Outcast, the prophecy was doomed and he could never make up for his mistakes. He would never be forgiven. And he'd be stuck with his name forever. It was proof of his guilt, it branded him.

'Alright. But don't ever call me Raf again.' He finally managed to say.

A big smile appeared on Nume's face.

// There you go, don't forget to vote and tell me what you thought about this one! It's a bit dialogue heavy but I just wanted you to get to know them a little better :) Also, what do you think the baymout looks like?