The afternoon was approaching fast. An hour before the sun set itself high in the clear blue Brymlight sky, Nikolai was already waiting at their usual meeting spot; by the lone oak tree at the village entrance. He was there early but was surprised to spot (the usually late) Lana walking towards him from the forest. She seemed distracted. Her fingers tugged at the bow across her body. When she completely walked past him, he raised an eyebrow. She couldn't possibly be pulling one of her cold shoulder things now, could she?

"Lana?" Nikolai called out.

The young woman gasped, jumping as alertness returned to her eyes.

"You okay?" Nikolai asked, frowning as he approached her. He saw her sweating a little and the focus in her eyes dwindled. "Wait. Are you sick?"

"No. No, I'm not," Lana replied, shaking her head quickly. She sighed. "You just scared me."

"So, you went hunting?" he gestured at the bow. "Bit early for you, isn't it?"

Lana scowled. She grabbed an arrow from her quiver and held it up at him. "Where do you want it? I could shoot this straight up your --"

"No thanks," Nikolai said, raising his hands as he took a huge step back. "But really though, where did you go?"

Lana stopped looking angry. "I was..." she hesitated. "I was taking a bath."

Nikolai stared at her. Lana frowned in thought but remained silent.

"Somebody peeked at you or something?" Nikolai asked.

"No. Well... I thought someone was peeping because I heard something," Lana said. "But I shot an arrow blindly and managed to hit a snake on a tree. Yellow-striped snake. I tossed it somewhere."

"So, you shot an arrow," Nikolai said, "while you took a bath..."

"Yes," Lana replied.

"At a snake?"

"Yes."

Nikolai stepped towards her and sniffed. He cleared his throat. "Three things," he said firmly, holding out three fingers in front of Lana's face. "One. As much as I sound ridiculous when I admit my mistakes, when you lie; you give so much detail, it's laughable. Two. There are no snakes where you bathe. Too many owls in that area. Three. You still smell like wet grass and mud from the past week."

"That's not a nice thing to say to girls, Nikolai."

"Sorry for the lack of practice," he said, shrugging.

"More importantly, why do you know where I bathe?" Lana asked, her eyebrow rising as she pointed the arrowhead at the space between Nikolai's eyes.

"See, that's not the point," he said as he slowly pushed the arrow aside. "So, tell me. What really happened?"

At that, Lana sighed. She bit her lip with uncertainty. Then, she said quietly, "Cammie's grandmother came by. She said Cammie caught the fever last night."

Nikolai froze.

"She passed away this morning," Lana continued, her voice shuddering. "I went to look for something we could use for a... tombstone."

"But she was fine when she was with us!" Nikolai said with disbelief. His heart beat up a thunderstorm, forcing him to clench his fist in order to control his emotions. "It was just yesterday --" He drew a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips. "It was the broken nose, wasn't it?" he seethed. "The blood disguised the disease. That's what happened, wasn't it?"

Lana didn't answer. She didn't need to.

"Right in front of us," Nikolai muttered angrily, throwing his hands up into the air. "She was already dying in front of us. We knew, but we decided it was a coincidence. This sort of rubbish coincidence --" In rage, the young man lunged at the oak tree and kicked a piece of its bark off. Gritting his teeth from the pain, he let out a frustrated groan. He paced about, pulling at his hair.

"We couldn't have done anything anyway..."

Nikolai whipped around to glare at Lana. She seemed convinced of what she had said. He was going to say something to rebuke her, but he knew there was truth in her words. And they echoed in his brain.

They could have done nothing. They were powerless...

Nikolai shut his eyes and raised his face to the sky. He attempted to calm down but he was so infuriated that his body shook. Nikolai swung his hands to rid himself of the excess fury, hitting his little finger painfully against the watch's body which sat deep in his pocket.

Freydon's promise...

It had been a strong moment for him to have made such a statement over the grave of a loved one. Now, as he stood there with his anger running wild, a deep-seated worry surfaced.

Just how exactly was he going to keep that promise?