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The rest of the day passed in a blur. Aya and Navin wandered the city, not caring where they would end up. Eventually they went to the market and picked up supplies they needed, such as blankets and bedrolls, food, water, bags, rope, ale and clothes. Aya glared at every
E
lf and Tyran who passed her, hoping to convey her hatred for every last one of them. Poor Villid had indeed been involved in the destruction of her village, but he had saved Aya’s life countless times and easily made up for it. He was innocent, and had almost been killed for the numbers branded forever on his chest. Aya didn’t notice the blood on her own body until Navin pointed it out and dragged her to a nearby stream. Aya saw her own flickering reflection in the water below her, and saw a troubled young
Elf, praying that Villid would wake. Aya suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up.
“I’m very sorry for what happened this morning.” said a tall, graceful Elf woman dressed in glittering silver robes. Aya recognised her as Eria, the Keeper of the Elven area of the city. Aya stared defiantly at her. “Villid could have died.” she said, clenching her fists.
“I know,” Eria replied sorrowfully. “Let me apologise on behalf of my village
. It is pandemonium in there right now.
Nobody knows what to do about the forest village, or if there were any survivors.”
Aya blushed and looked down at the ground. “Didn’t you say you couldn’t go home, Aya?” said Navin next to her.
“But you wouldn’t tell me why.
”
Aya shot him a warning look, but the damage was done. “You were there, Aya?” the keeper asked, sitting beside her next to the stream. Aya looked around nervously, but no one else seemed to have noticed Navin’s outburst. Aya waited, and then nodded slowly.
“Was it the Tyrans?”
Aya waited again. She couldn’t tell her it was a Tyran army – it would just exacerbate things further. “I can’t say
who it was,” said Aya finally. “
It would just make things more complicated if I talked about it. But... I was the only survivor. The last Seer, Llyliana, made it too, but... she’s dead now.”
Eria let out a sigh. “This is terrible,” she muttered. “So there are no forest
Elves left?”
“Why does it matter?” Aya sighed. “You have
Elves here.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Eria. “Well, I will be speaking with the
Elves in the village. We will have to establish some sort of treaty with the Tyrans. I will assume for now that the Tyrans did not destroy the village – although, Aya, I can see your face says otherwise.”
“I have nothing else
to say to you,” said Aya, getting up. “Come on, Navin,” she beckoned the watching Knabi boy.
“Let’s go and see how Villid’s doing. Goodbye, Eria.”
She gave Eria the tiniest of bows and then swept away. Navin trotted to keep up with her. Eria watched them go, her heart sinking. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Aya?” Navin asked, as they hurried back towards the inn. “Was it the Tyrans?”
Aya sighed. “It was,” she confessed. “I was there, and so was Villid. But Villid wasn’t on their side... he rescued me. He banished himself from his tribe to save me.”
Navin stayed silent for a moment. “Aren’t you angry with the Tyrans?” he asked eventually.
“I was, at first,” they strode on, avoiding crowds of people who ignored them, and continued their business. It was almost as if nothing had happened that morning, although every now and then an
Elf and a Tyran would march past each other, angrily avoiding each other’s gazes. “But Villid and I are friends. He’s saved my life, helped me train, taught me how to defend myself. He’s very special to me.”
They reached the inn and went inside. The usual dozen or so people sat around tables, sipping beer and talking loudly. When they got to the bedroom, Villid was awake and sitting up.
“How are you feeling?” Aya asked, relieved to see him awake.
“I’ll live.
” Villid replied. As Aya drew closer, she saw how bruised and battered he looked, and a surge of anger ran through her. “I’m so sorry for what happened,” she
whispered. She turned to Navin. “Could you get Villid a drink?” she asked. Navin nodded, and left.
“Villid,” Aya murmured, and kissed him. “I was so scared I’d lost you,” she whispered. Villid’s left eye was blackened, fresh cuts covered his shoulders and bruises were all over his neck and face. Villid kissed her back, comforted by her warmth, and knowing he could survive anything as long as Aya was by his side.
A knock on the door caused them to draw apart and Maajin walked inside, Navin at his heels, carrying a jug of water. “We leave tonight,” he said, carrying two small bags of food. “I trust you feel well enough, Villid?”
“Yes,” said Villid. “Thank you, Maajin.”
Navin brought over
Villid’s water and they ate in silence. “The road ahead is long,” Maajin said. “I trust you have sufficient supplies? Young Knabi, w
hat’s your name?”
“Navin,” he squeaked.
“Good. You will join us on our journey?”
Navin looked petrified. “I – I wasn’t planning to,” he stuttered.
“Very well,” Maajin raised a bushy, grey eyebrow. “Well then, if you’re ready, let’s go.”

Villid handed a fistful of gold coins to the stable man and ordered a horse for Aya. “We will travel faster
if you have a horse of your own.” Villid said, and Aya agreed.
She chose a magnificent chestnut-coloured mare, with deep dark eyes and a mane black as coal. It snorted happily as
she touched the horse’s silky nose. “That’s Felina,” said the stable man, waddling towards her. “A good horse. She likes you.”
Maajin mounted a grand white horse. It was a stallion, but not nearly as big as Acotas, who shook his fine black mane, anticipating the long ride to come. The guards bowed them out of the city and the wall of rock separating them from the outside world cracked open, revealing the drawbridge leading to the mountainside. Villid expected the road to look different to how they remembered it – torn apart by the wind, perhaps. But the steep, gravelly road sloping downhill, the old, worn sign with different languages carved onto it, and the patch of sky above them looked almost the same as before.
As they were about to venture down the mountainside, they suddenly heard someone behind them. It was Navin.
“Wait! Wait for me!” Navin panted, chasing after them. He reached them, breathing fast from running. “I – I want to come with you,” he breathed.
“After saying you didn’t?” Villid asked.
“I’m sorry,” Navin cried. “I thought I would be better off here, but... I have no other friends here. I’ll miss you.”
“You’re joining us to request the companionship of different civilizations across Theldiniya to help defeat the Darkma armies,
because you want to be with your friends?” Maajin scoffed. “That is terrible. Come, Aya, Villid.”
“No!” Navin said desperately. “I’m sorry. You were right,
Villid. I should go back to my homeland and face the Knabi. I’m just scared, I thought I would be better off here, but... that’s my home, isn’t it? It’s where I belong.”
Villid frowned, but Aya smiled. “Then we look forward to travelling with you, Navin.” she said.
“As long as you stay close to us, and don’t put yourself or us in any danger at all.” Villid grunted.
“Yes, of course,” said Navin eagerly. “So, can I ride the horse?”
Villid and Maajin looked at each other.
They ventured down the mountainside, where the wind howled between the rocks. Navin glanced nervously around him. “It sounds scary,” he commented. “Like a ghost. It’s as if the mountain is watching us.”
“You can always turn back,” Villid suggested, half-hoping he would.
Navin shivered. “No,” he said determinedly. “I can do this. Can’t I, Aya?”
“You can,” Aya said distractedly. She was starting to feel nauseous again. She suddenly stopped and clutched her stomach, closing her eyes.
“Are you all right, Aya?” Villid asked. Aya bit her lip, then shook her head. “I... I won’t be a moment.” she said, and ran behind a nearby tree.
As she leaned against the tree, facing the floor, her head spinning, the nausea mounted and she vomited on the grass. She groaned, closing her eyes. This was terrible. She knew
it now, and she wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer. She was pregnant.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she felt tears running down her cheeks. How things had changed in the past few months. Not long ago, she had been a normal village-dweller, a servant for the Seer, and the daughter of a poor but well-respected
E
lf man. In one terrible night, it had all been taken away from her, and she had met a Tyran, of all things, and fallen into a forbidden love with him. And now, with all the death and destruction around them, a new life had been created. Would it be a vile, deformed child, never truly belonging anywhere, and
bring repulsion to anything that saw it? Would it even survive? Would it ever be accepted in such a twisted, torn world? In Fort Valour, perhaps there was a possibility. In other places, there was no chance.
“Aya?” Villid suddenly appeared and found Aya sobbing, hugging herself. “Aya, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Aya couldn’t stop crying; everything was wrong, how could she explain it? Would Villid hate her for this? She couldn’t survive without him, she had nowhere to go, and they had an important task to fulfil. And what would the Dragons think of them now?
“Aya,” Villid whispered, hugging Aya to him, who cried into his chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shh,” Villid felt scared; it wasn’t like Aya to fall apart like this. “Aya, don’t worry, we’ll protect you,” he said. “Is
that what you’re afraid of?”
Aya let Villid hold her, her heart thumping so hard she was sure he could hear it, forcing back more tears and trying to push the frightening thoughts of a hideous, deformed baby out of her mind. “I’m just tired and scared,” she said eventually. “It’s all so overwhelming. I’m scared of losing you, Villid.”
“Don’t worry,” Villid said. “I... have you been sick?”
Aya drew back. “I think I ate something bad before,” she lied, looking at the ground. “Come on. Maajin and Navin are waiting.”
Aya wiped her eyes as they went back to Felina.
Villid wasn’t convinced, but knew there was no point pressing it for now.
Maajin looked her up and down. “Let’s go, before the night arrives.” he said finally.
They travelled closely together, climbing down the mountain with
difficulty. The sun was setting and cast an orange glow over them; sometimes it was too bright to see anything. The blood-red sky reminded Villid painfully of the night the Seer had died. Is that why Aya had been crying? Was she remembering her hometown again? No, that couldn’t be it. But something was definitely bothering her, and Villid wished he could speak to her in private and ask.
It was dark by the time they reached the bottom of the mountain. It was a relief to be able to walk on flat ground
again, although the gravel was still rough beneath their feet. A little way away was a small cluster of trees that would shelter them for the night.
“One of us must keep watch,” said Maajin as they settled under the oaks. “It isn’t safe here.”
“I’ll do it.” said Villid.
“Are you sure?” asked Aya anxiously; it was the first time she had spoken since she’d been sick.
“You keep watch until midnight,” said Maajin. “And I’ll keep watch until dawn.”
They set up their bedrolls. “Is it safe to light a fire, Maajin?” Aya asked.
She expected him to say no, it wasn’t safe, but to her surprise he nodded. “Knabi boy, light a fire,” he ordered. “Aya, you
may cook something, if you wish.”
Before long there was a fire crackling and the smell of cooking meat wafted through the air. Aya served it with herbs and they ate silently. A sudden movement behind Aya made her jump and reach for her dagger.
“It’s all right,” said Navin, as something came from the bush behind them. “Look! It’s an animal!”
A tiny creature came from the bushes. It was no bigger than Villid’s hand, and had a small, brown snout and long, bushy tail. The squirrel shuffled towards them, sniffing the air, and rested beside Aya.
“It’s hungry,” said Navin affectionately, and offered some meat to the small creature. It sniffed the food, and then
took a bite.
“It’s amazing how something so gentle can still exist here.” said Aya quietly, as the creature finished the meat Navin had given it and looked up expectantly for more. Villid watched Aya; her sickness troubled him, and he made up his mind to ask her about it at the first opportunity.

The night was silent; the fire had died into ashes and three companions slept soundly in their bedrolls. Only one sat awake, unmoving. Villid had gotten used to night watches when he had been with the Tyrans, and he knew how to see danger from a mile away. But he wasn’t completely focused; the sleeping woman next to him clouded his thoughts.
He cared for her so much, and thought every waking hour about the time they had spent together
. How he had craved her for the months they had travelled together, and how he craved
her even more now. She looked now similarly to how she had looked the night he had kissed her while she slept, although her breathing sounded raspy, as if she had been crying. He wondered about waking her and asking her what was wrong; it was more than fear of the journey ahead that had upset her, he knew it. She had fallen asleep before Maajin and Navin; she had closed her eyes almost the moment her head had touched the pillow.
“Protect Aya and Navin, and they will protect you.” Maajin had said to him hours before.
“I already do protect them,” Villid had replied. “They’re
my friends. I wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”
Maajin had nodded in approval. “That
E
lf is troubled,” he had commented. “But I can tell she trusts you. I am surprised an
Elf and a Tyran travel together.”
“So everyone says,” Villid had said. “I know it’s odd, but we’ve helped each other since... since her village was destroyed.”
At midnight, Villid woke Maajin. “It’s your turn to keep watch,” he whispered. Maajin
settled into the watching space, where there was a clear view of the mountain and the road ahead of them. “Maajin,” Villid whisp
ered. “Have you ever heard of ‘The Blood of the Fallen’?”
Maajin stayed silent for a moment.
“It is a legend, nothing more.
” he said.
“But you’ve heard of it?”
“There are many legends and myths passed through generations,” Maajin explained. “This
‘Blood of the Fallen’
is one of them. Now sleep, Tyran.”
Villid got into his bedroll beside Aya, and softly moved some hair from her face. She still slept soundly; it gave Villid peace knowing she wasn’t scared, at least for the moment. He felt his eyelids getting heavy, and soon he slept too, leaving behind, at least for now, the fears that plagued him.