Time ceased to be. Rhene retreated into a daze stealing from her both what pains burdened her—like the dig of the saddle into her thighs or the pulling ache of her long-dried tears—as well as what sights would have otherwise stunned her in wonder. Each breath necessitated the strain of pure will while her mind slammed against its confines with taunting blotches of black dimming her world. If she dared give in to the dark, could she wake in her bed with Oka squawking for food? With her mother chomping at the bit to make her beautiful for the world that wouldn’t see? 

Rhene clenched her eyes. She would endure. She would endure. She would endure. 

She would endure...for what? 

Her father knew. Her mother, though she might not outwardly admit it, knew. Rhene was a replacement, an outsider. Her disappearance might prompt them to reveal the truth. What if, with the seal broken, they didn’t care for her return? Rhene’s teeth dug deep into her lip again. That...couldn’t be. It’d only been close to a day and a half since her mother gazed upon her with tender fondness and spoke a promise of utter infatuation. Rhene was not the daughter she had birthed. However, Rhene had done everything to be the daughter her mother wanted. That had to have stirred some genuine care for who she was, right? 

As that thought came, desperate conviction granted strength and better logic. Orius himself said that her father kindly took her into his arms even when Rhene was nothing more than a dead woman’s screaming infant. He’d found pity and mercy for her then, and he’d brought her safely home to raise her with love and care since. No one knew who Orius was, if they’d gotten a good look at him at all. What purpose would there be in her father abruptly exposing the secret carefully guarded for so long if when he, himself, might not know the family of the woman slain by his hand two decades ago came to retrieve what they believed theirs? 

“Why...” Rhene’s mumbled beginning broke the suffocating silence like the blare of a horn, “did you take me?” 

“...I took you because I thought it to be right. You deserved to know the truth, meet your real family, and discover that the sheltered life you’ve been subjected to is not the life you have to submit to,” Orius replied. 

“I did not phrase my question well, for that is not the manner of answer I desired. Pardon me.” Rhene relaxed her creaking fingers from the confines of Orius’s cloak and settled them upon her thighs. “For whose benefit did you take me? For me, and me alone? The answer that you did give—can you claim without lie that you didn’t seek to recover me for your own purposes? To satisfy your sense of justice and revenge without care of what I truly wished, with believing that the excuse of my ‘right to know’ enough?” 

Evelthon licked his lips and stared straight on. Orius didn’t speak for several minutes. When he did, his shoulders straightened and jaw lifted. 

“I understood that stealing you away would not be pleasant for you. Perhaps I foolishly overestimated my confidence of the speed at which you’d wish to explore the widened world now within your grasp. Do I despise Pelagon, and his wife to some extent, and feel vindicated in taking what is precious from him the way he took from Pater and me? Yes. My answer to your question is both. I want for you to have your chance to know, to see. I want to restore my family and then see those I love protected from future harm.” 

Rhene attached her stare to the pebble-dotted road. An honest response. One that should comfort, yet her lungs swelled with unplaceable emotion to the point where ribs, desperately trying to contain the expansion, stabbed her with each inhale. Rhene didn’t like that. She didn’t like any of this. Every steady mile the horses covered clung maddening impatience and restlessness to her in a way her days in her room never had. Orius finally called the break for lunch and rest, but getting her feet upon the ground only fed the discontent. She nibbled quietly at their repeated meal of slightly staler bread, dried meat, and berries that Evelthon quickly foraged. They caught shade in the trees and dipped their feet in the lively brook the horses sucked drink from before chomping away at the grass. 

“I need to...” Rhene squirmed at Evelthon half an hour later, finding the words easier to speak to him despite how she couldn’t actually speak them. 

“Find your privacy, but don’t go far. Keep an eye to the ground for snakes, and best to clap or smack sticks together after deciding your spot to reveal them before you, um, get too close to the ground,” he offered. 

“Thank you. I’ll be back shortly.” 

Rhene eyed the ground, yet she could have passed a horde of snakes and not have known them different from sticks. Her spot, warded by several hard beatings of her palms together, allowed her the relieving she sought. Rhene’s solitude when she finished, however, whispered in her mind the opportunity to claim another manner of solace. She vigorously tossed her head, flicking her braid back and forth like a whip. The logic against what the whisper suggested had already been made clear the previous night. Danger awaited her. That was it. 

Her feet burned. The sun had not yet touched her cheeks or shoulders with damaged heat, but her soles itched painfully with all the need of a man deprived of water seeking a fresh lake. Harder and harder the throb of her rushing heart spurred on those constricting ribs, a stomach full of acid, and calves shivered by cold sweat. Rhene thought she was soon to be ill. Then, the worrying crescendo blossomed into clarity. She understood. This was impulse. The blindness of emotions that took hold of the heroes in the stories taught to her that resulted in the worst decisions and consequences. The idiocy that frequently had her and Cilissa shouting out in frustration, much to Maia’s annoyance. 

Three steps east. Rhene took them anticipating the overpowering lure drenching her in physical reaction would cease. She again repeated all her internal warnings. There were the elements. There were wild animals. There were men worse than wild animals. Weeks of traveling stretched before her to reach home, and that was only if she managed every step perfectly. 

Three more steps. Fifteen feet. A few steps back. Another fifteen feet east. Rhene stiffened and halted at the rustling of grass, but two roving squirrels were the source of the noise. One more step. Then she ran. Low bushes and tangled heaps of collapsed twigs scratched her feet. Small rocks and jutting roots stabbed her heels and jabbed her toes. Fear of reprisal twisted around the urging coil of adrenaline, but when several seconds became a minute, when a minute became several—Rhene ran on. Clumsily with a speed certainly humiliating to any with skill, but she ran. 

Her lungs continued to be an enemy when breathlessness from lack of familiarity with exercise splotched her sight with yellow dots. Rhene slowed then. Her feet still pressed on with what haste they could muster, and that pace saw her through the next batch of minutes. A good start had been made, but Orius and Evelthon were sure to be quick. Perdix telling a tale of following an escaped enemy came to mind as Rhene surveyed the land around her and settled her eye upon the brook. Footsteps could be discerned by sight, and dogs could track scent. Water would eliminate both. There were naturally no dogs, but Rhene willingly slipped her soles into the inch or two of surprisingly frigid flow with a sharp hiss before proceeding onward. 

Rhene lost the passage of time after that. She walked—occasionally slipping—with what rapidity she could against the bubbling push. Her toes vanishing from the sense of touch forced her back to land until summer’s heat granted them enough tingle for Rhene to repeat the process of in-out-in-out. Finally, the brook wrenched a sharp turn north sending her off from what help it bestowed. She hoped it’d been plenty. 

Evelthon stepped out from behind a tree in front of her. 

“Please now,” he held his hands up, reluctantly striding before her path. “I will need you to come back to Orius with me.” 

Rhene collapsed to her knees. Her quivering hands dug into the ground and clutched at the tangled grass roots. Evelthon gasped and hurried over, fretting above her, especially as tears became her cheeks’ companions once more. 

“I apologize. I do. More than most, I emphasize heavily with wanting to return to your home and family, but this is not a safe way—” 

“It’s not that!” Rhene whined as a moody child with tears dropping faster and palm smacking the dirt. 

“Uh? Wh-what is it then?” 

“Am I truly so useless?!” she begged. 

“Of course not. What makes you think you are?” 

“You appeared in front of me!” Rhene jabbed an accusatory finger at the tree. “I tried as best I could! My feet got hurt by the ground and frozen by the water, but I pressed on with all my might! Could you not have at least come at me from behind?!” Another shake of her head splattered her crying mess everywhere. “I can’t even run away properly!” 

“No!” Evelthon tentatively patted her shoulders. “You, um, did a wonderful job. Orius didn’t even try to come. He stayed back with the horses because I, well...it is me who is simply quite fast. Had he another companion, you would have been able to get much farther.” 

“Yet in that very statement you reveal you think I’d have been caught regardless,” Rhene pointed out wryly, battling her lungs still to take full breaths. 

“I...yes. I do think that.” 

“Thank you for your honesty...” Rhene dropped her head. As fast as the impulse came, it flitted off like a prankster running from the scene of a crime with a merrily taunting cackle. Rhene rubbed her palms upon her chiton before drying her face. Evelthon’s hand gingerly lowered before her. Rhene looked up at him and his worry. “You promised me you would take me home.” 

“I owe Orius, and I promised him first,” Evelthon sighed. “That promise ends at seeing you safely to his pater’s home. Your pater’s home. I have merely met him once before, but I have seen how greatly he cares for his children. Family is a choice as much as it is by blood. I hope you might give him a chance and some time. Regardless, I will keep my vow whenever you ask to leave, even if it is as soon as we arrive.” 

Rhene took his hand and shakily stood. “Alright...” 

“To note, I find it impressive that you did run. Orius and I fully believed you wouldn’t dare.” 

“I remembered advice my brother gave in a tale and removed my footprints by taking to the water.” 

“...” 

“What?” 

“It has not rained recently, and the ground is hard here. There were no footprints to track. I found you because this was simply the most obvious path for one to take.” 

“Hahhh..!” 

“You’ll get better,” Evelthon promised. Rhene raised a brow. 

“You wish me to escape again?” 

“Like I said, I am fast. Orius himself wouldn’t be able to flee. We do require ways to pass these hours of waiting though, and it is good exercise,” Evelthon shrugged. 

“Perhaps.” 

Despite it all, Rhene laughed a little. Evelthon grinned in response and motioned her west. Nodding, Rhene walked that way step-in-step with him.