The hill’s waves gently bobbed Yorell up and down. It was soothing. 

He eventually dried his cheeks, the tears had made his face cold. 

Regret bit into him, and he felt foolish. Foolish for following Ma’an, for even trying to escape. There was nothing left for him. Nothing to do, or to say, nowhere to go. 

'.........' He stood up and started walking.

・・・

‘Yorell! Yoreeeeell!!’ Ma’an yelled over the hills. 

It echoed, but there was no reply. And yet he was sure Yorell had gone into the hills again. 

Two dead Kosocians lay on the slopes, both barrels of their guns bent unnaturally. That could have been done by no one other than Yorell. 

Their bodies had been ripped apart strangely, their necks had been broken, pushed so far that skin and muscle had torn. It was no pretty sight, but was in line with how Ma’an had estimated Yorell’s keiïa abilities. 

He ran up the hill, holding his own hand in pain. The cold was getting through to the soaked glove. 

The Taut Hill had calmed a lot now, but it was still moving. He still had hope for Yorell, he could feel that he was there. 

The spirits of the hill were reacting to the presences in the vicinity. That could be the remaining Kosocians and Etmeyn, for spirits like this tended to react to irregular sounds, movements, and emotions. 

Ma’an knew, for he had studied spirits before. He had done so for seven years at the University of Zeëzin back in Peijh. And while spirits did not understand emotion or conflict, they did react to it. These spirits were unstable, so much so they could barely stay still under the unexpected feet of humans. 

They must be with many, Ma’an thought. He wondered when they settled here on earth. But he had no time to think of it now, for he sought another soul. 

Grief for the horse only ebbed away slowly, which mingled in with all the other feelings. He felt ill, but he kept climbing. He kept calling out for him, hoping to hear something back, or at least ease his fear. 

Because Ma’an knew Yorell was scared. He had noticed the effect he had had on him. They had given each other a way out. The ambition was out of this world, quite literally, and so they had to go on. If they stopped they would both fall. They would realise there may be no hope, there may not even be a way to Manta. 

Perhaps it was nothing but a fantasy land out of old books–

Ma’an shook the thought off. He had seen them. He had seen Manteans. Only once, but they existed. 

In the enormous forest of Kiz, about a week after he had gotten sundered from his colleagues, he stumbled upon two of them. 

They lived there together, like some Mantean migrants did. They had abandoned society and built their own house deep in the woods, among giant trees. 

Their magic was incredible, and he learned a lot while he stayed there. But they did not reveal much about Manta, except for an obscure map. 

So yes, it was real, he was sure of it. 

But was it any use going if he couldn’t find Yorell? 

He did not even know whether Yorell even wanted to go there. He just wanted to get away from the hands of the Kosocians. He had promised to follow his every step, so perhaps he would take the long journey for granted if it meant he could fulfil his promise. 

Ma’an’s breathing became heavy. The slope became gentler, but it went slow. The exhaustion was starting to reach him, partly because of his thinking. 

He kept walking on and on. He got distracted so that he did not even realise he had reached the top of the hill minutes ago and found himself between the waves. 

It was difficult to keep his balance, but they were rather gentle. He could not see where he’d come from anymore, for everything around him seemed to bend and swirl so that the same fate as Yorell awaited him. 

And so he just kept walking. 

He fell several times, and every time it was more difficult to get up, but he did so. 

Until he saw Yorell. 

At this point, he was so tired, he could barely remember his name. 

So in his relief, he yelled: ‘Heyyyy!!’ 

A tall figure far away stopped moving, and he turned, his eyes opening wide– '...!'

Ma’an ran towards him, stumbling over waves.

‘Ma’an…’ Yorell said quietly, and he was frozen. 

It was hard to believe what he saw. Was it the hills making him see things? Was he dying? 

His lips were quivering, his gaze not letting the small man running towards him go for even a second. 

Ma’an was instantly alarmed, seeing Yorell freeze. He sped up and ran as fast as he could. He slowed down when he came within five metres of Yorell, and they looked at each other in shock. 

‘You… didn’t leave…?’ Yorell said. 

‘Of course not!’ Ma’an said, and he came closer. 

To his surprise, Yorell stepped back, seeming scared. 

‘...Are you okay?’ Ma’an asked with a frown. 

‘Yes… I… Are you real?’ 

Ma’an was stunned. ‘Y-yes, I’m real… What’s going on, Yorell? What happened?’ 

‘I just… I thought you left!’ Yorell started to cry. And, despite the hurt and the doubts, he put his arms out towards Ma’an, wanting to hold him as close as possible.

They reached each other and put their arms around one another, falling into the grass as the waves swelled up again. 

But they did not let go. 

Yorell sobbed as he clung onto Ma’an, who closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against his chest. 

‘It’s okay, Yorell. I’m here. I’m not letting you go.’ Quiet tears started streaming down his face as well. 

‘Why did you not go? I ruined your journey…’ Yorell said. 

‘No, you didn’t! I do not leave my company behind.’ 

Yorell held him even tighter, as if the small wizard could disappear any moment. 

‘You’re all I have…’ Ma’an said softly. 

'...!' Yorell squeezed his eyes shut. 

Ma’an felt his deep breathing against him. They sat for a while there, and their hearts warmed each other up. 

Slowly but surely, the realisation set in that the person in his arms was really Ma’an, and his body relaxed. Now that he was back, it felt like he was in a dream world. 

But he was also hit by reality, and his body hurt again. All that had happened came back to him. 

‘How did you get away from Etanna? Did you kill them?’ he asked after a silence. 

‘I did not. I left while they were distracted.’ 

‘I kille—‘ 

‘I know, I saw them. It’s okay,’ Ma’an said, and he wiped the hair out of Yorell’s face. His eyes were full of relief, and yet many worries still swarmed behind them. 

‘Will you… still go to Manta with me, Ma’an?’ Yorell asked. His voice was tremulous. 

‘I-I will, Yorell. Of course, I will. I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else.’ 

‘Thank you…’ They lay there for a while, the ground around them rising ever higher. 

‘What will happen next?’ Yorell asked eventually. 

‘We go on… Although… first I would like to sleep for a while,’ Ma’an said. 

The ground folded over them, and they disappeared into the hills.