You can Go on Living; the Journey has Ended

Evening had fallen, and the sky had grown dark, as it did in the latter terms of New Praven. Durroum turned his dinner over a spit with a lethargic arm. It gave off a sweet, savory smell as he marinated the northern borrowing rabbit with his finely tuned blend of spices and glazes. However, the otherwise pleasant aroma only came across as bland as it passed his nostrils in the low prairie wind.

Amm Par sat across from him at a lengthy distance, her dressing of a prairie fowl drawing her attention for the moment. She had never been a talker, never talked at all, for that matter. Mainly on account of being unable to. Now, however, she shunned all communication: no hand gestures, no head movements, no dirty stares, no acknowledgment. To his surprise, Durroum missed her telepathic chatter. Sure, he didn't understand any of it except the emotional overtones. But now, he could get a better read on the comatose.

She appeared not to want anything to do with him, and that might be true. Sure, she protected him, like she did a few nights back, but that didn't reassure him. In fact, it made him even more apprehensive.

Previously, she would wait for the attack, and if they ran off, she wouldn't give chase. Not this last time. The prairies offered little concealment. So instead, their would-be assassins tried using the cover of darkness, but this proved ineffective. Upon noticing them—at this point, it was unknown if they had nefarious intent—Amm Par spanned the 50 strides distance in a single leap, landing right in front of them, blade drawn. She waved her sword in warning once, and when they failed to vacate, she went in swinging. To say she butchered them is the most charitable description, as none could offer effective resistance before finding themselves deprived of life. Even the two that fled in terror were not spared, though perhaps they never realized they had been slain while still cognitive.

It lasted a matter of seconds, and for the first time, Durroum saw her full fury. Had she been holding back all this time? Trying to be merciful, perhaps? If so, that time had passed. He found it hard to sleep after that.

And all because of that lute. Who would have thought its loss would have such a profound effect on Amm Par? Though if he was honest, he had to admit his own actions had played no small part. After all, he could name the moment when her haunting white form became an icy presence, and it wasn't when she discovered the lute missing. So, as much as he would like to credit the lute's magical properties, he knew full well the real issue.

She had carried it since he first caught sight of her in Atol, and she had never parted with it—unslinging it and setting it to her side when she slept was as far as it got, which is probably what happened to it back at the tower. You would think, with such reverence for safeguarding, she would have played it regularly. Not the case; she never played it. With how bitter she had become, perhaps it was a precious keepsake, and while he couldn't rule that out, she could play it—and very well, he'd wagered. Her quick and precise tuning performed daily and with religious fervor belied her abilities. He longed to hear her play and not because of his love of music, but because she guarded it so fervently. It would be like catching a glimpse of one of those fetching priestesses of Marathaa bathing. Truth be told, if he could have gotten a guarantee she would play something for him, he would have considered going back.

But no, that would have been suicide. Those were trained soldiers; they wouldn't mess up a second time. That being said, Durroum felt uncharacteristically logy, yet still had trouble sleeping, and not just because he now slept with one eye open. Sure, he was already taking Amm Par for a ride, exploiting her services in exchange for tracking the children. And of course, he had no idea of their whereabouts, though he had found several witnesses, one going as far as saying they saw them in a caravan of a man who appeared to be of the Sparto desert. But he needed to get to New Praven, and the people of the Sparto desert did business everywhere, so who knows where they would end up. The Pit, they might even be in New Praven… though that wasn't likely.

No, he had no guilt on that front. Scammers gonna scam, and he was a scammer by trade... Well, not so much anymore, perhaps a hobbyist. He had no qualms with stealing either. After all, stealing had gotten him into this predicament in the first place, and he still had no regret. Although if Amm Par hadn't turned up, he might be singing a different tune. So why then had the loss of a lute of relatively little value continue to weigh on his mind? He knew the answer, but if he held himself morally accountable for his actions—or inactions—he wouldn't have slept with that girl and stolen her medallion in the first place. The damn thing didn't even appear to have any value; he only took it because of how greatly she cherished it and made him think otherwise.

Amm Par was different. For one, they still had an ongoing partnership. Usually, he screwed over his partners once their business dealings had concluded. Second, with her newfound disgust of him, if she discovered he didn't have the goods before he reached safety, it would not be an agreeable parting. No parting at all for that matter, unless you included head from body—his only consolation was that Amm Par didn’t seem to enjoy torturing her victims. Pragmatic considerations, but not what stole the flavor from his dinner. That he owed to the ice-cold stab of betrayal she’d cast at him before she went silent.

Amm Par finished pulling the feathers and gutting her kill. Still, it wasn't fair to say she didn't communicate. She communicated through her blank stare, through her bone white mask, watching and unmoving, even as she raised a sleeve, obscuring the small bites she took from the raw, bloody carcass. Durroum's skin prickled.

After that night, she refused to accept any food he offered her, instead opting to obtain her own and eat it raw. He didn't know she could do this without ill effect, but she showed no signs of malady. He couldn't believe cooking was a foreign concept to her; her animalistic consumption must be purely to perturb him, and it did. If only she would stop staring at him while she ate. It felt like one day, she would feast on his flesh.

But what could he do? He had brought this on himself several times over—twice of his own volition, and once out of self-preservation. Maybe Noel was right; he was a piece of shit. He must really be starting to stink if even he was beginning to smell it.

It had been a while since the last human city. Moonlight Guardian might have been impressed, if not for the several other settlements they’d passed through. By those standards, this city came in on the smaller side, perhaps on par with Atol. Regardless, she still found it overwhelming. Overwhelming enough to temporarily forget her resentment of Durroum.

Passing through the gate and by a number of waiting carts, again the throng of people and sounds assailed her senses. The noise never grew any more tolerable, but she had begun to understand it as communication and not just racket. Aside from this cognitive development, this settlement struck her as modest, or perhaps humble in temperament. She couldn't say what gave her that impression; maybe all the winter clothing. The air blew cold around the stone buildings, and people moved with purpose and didn't loiter. Not the case farther south.

The construction of the buildings really caught her fancy, all constructed out of heavy stone, and not like the pretentious brick buildings of the southern city with their rigid square-cut stonework. The building here used stone more or less as you would find them in a stream or wedged in the ground, with perhaps a bit of polish—even back home, they would shape them as needed. And not just the building, but also the pathways and stairs. The roofs looked to be of the more conventional wood, though. It reminded her of the Plains tribe’s constructions that also favored stone buildings for their durability, and perhaps why this settlement set her at ease.

When her attention drifted back to Durroum, he wore perhaps the biggest grin she had seen since his "interactions" with Missy. This had to be it. They must have finally reached their destination. Now she could find the children and be done with him. And perhaps time still remained to recover her lute. Protecting the children would, of course, take priority, but if she could find that tower again, maybe she could recover it.

Moonlight Guardian had waited long enough, so once she felt they had reached their destination, she didn't trouble herself with a diplomatic request for payment. Unable to talk, she whipped out the drawing from the folds in her clothes and smacked the pages with a rigid finger, sounding a dry rattle. His smile withered at the sight of the pictures, and he scratched the back of his head, offering his human sounds.

She was not impressed. Is he trying to pull out of fulfilling his end of the bargain? After the incident back at the tower—she still couldn't say what he had done to upset them—she wouldn't put it past him to try and get out of it completely. Well, he would find it no simple task. She had spent the last week studying his every movement. How he walked, how he shifted his head, raised a hand, ate... She had even memorized the intricacies of his heartbeat. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a Harvester’s nose, which would have been most useful if he tried to sneak off—perhaps Indigo had a point about cross-discipline apprenticeships—but as it stood, even in the thick of a crowd, completely covered, she would find him.

An angry hand shoved the papers in his face. Durroum let out a sigh and shook his head, defeated. Good. Hopefully, they could conclude their business without delay. However, he held up a finger and pointed off in a direction. She knew this meant he needed—or wanted—to do something first.

Moonlight Guardian echoed his sigh. She nodded, the joyous smile returning to Durroum’s lips as they continued on. The cold morning air blew the lightest dusting of snow across the cobblestone streets, drifting like dust off the plains. This simple yet playful scene placated her impatience, which might otherwise have demanded payment in full immediately. They drew little attention as cold weather warranted cloaks, and they blended right in with the street goers, eager to get to their destinations. Without the distraction of gawkers, she could focus her full attention on monitoring Durroum, who sauntered down the white washed streets with an extra spring in his step.

They stopped at a large stone building matching the city's theme. Bigger than most other structures, it sat on its own patch of land, surrounded by full-fledged roadways. Like the rest of the city, people passed to and fro under its heavy sculpted archways. What business did he have here? Doubtless, it had nothing to do with her quest.

Durroum paused, perhaps a dozen strides from the great door, and took in a deep breath and let out a loud, misty utterance that held no meaning for her. He looked back, still wearing that smile, and took a step forward.

Several men she had paid no attention to, briskly stopped and turned to face them, drawing short swords. Moonlight Guardian's ears revealed this scene playing out behind them as well. She reached to draw her sword…

They shot forward... at her, paying Durroum no mind. They moved with an unexpected speed, faster than any previous humans. Sure, she could outpace them, but they numbered at least six. Well, she would end this quickly.

She deflected the first strike, going in for the kill, only to be forced to turn and defend a nearly simultaneous attack from the rear. As she parried that attack, the first attacker reeled around and launched a follow-up offensive. She went to defend, only to find two more from the flanks thrusting glinting steel in parallel. With no other option, she leaped out of the enclosing circle. Tempest, she cursed. These warriors fought as a single unit. Dealing with them would require specialized…

Just then, she saw two she had missed making a beeline for Durroum. Tempest! She hadn't gone through all the trouble just so he could die now. Landing, she shot forward to his defense, only vaguely aware of the glowing scrawl that hung in front of the two charging attackers. With more context, she would have questioned her cavalier rush.

Durroum noticed her charge, and instead of relief, a panicked expression overtook him, and he violently waved his arms. "STOP!"

A familiar word, but before sound had left his lips, the two assailants halted and twisted in her direction. Only then did she notice the strange floating symbols, burning a flickering glow of yellows and reds, as if on fire. Nonplussed, she stopped just as the two finished drawing a final slash into the flames, and not a moment too soon, as gouts of fire shot forth and crossed before her less than a stride away. Even still, she felt the hair on her hand sing and the hem of her sleeve begin to catch fire.

She jumped back on reflex, but they had anticipated this reaction; their presence only betrayed by the heat reflecting off their swords. With no other choice, she offered a crude block, nearly knocking her off balance. As she regained her footing using telekinesis, her attacker utilized a strange parrying maneuver that ended with a grip on her sword arm and, with a flourish of his forearm, sent her sword spinning away into the blaze that showed no sign of stopping.

She needed to get away, but another of the assassins had blocked her sky exit by launching himself above her. With no vectors of escape left, she had but one chance left. Indigo's instructions came to her mind, "You have to grab the empty..."

No good, only the first glow of ethereal light had manifested when she felt sharp metal pierce her side, cutting deep. Her concentration broke, and the man crashed to the ground on top of her. The fire ended just in time to see... a different set of warriors attacking the two that had conjured up the fire.

Additional manpower was being sent towards her to deal with the other attackers, she thought with her last bit of lucidity. Looked like Durroum was going to be just fine. But as for her? The last thing she remembered was a blue-haired female trying to pull Durroum back, as he charged forward, looking terrified.