“You’re being blackmailed?”  There’s a note of heartbreak on Ashford’s worried tone.

Mher averts their gaze from Ashford’s eyes and sardonically answers, “More or less.”

“Was it stolen?”  Seton asks uncaringly deadpan.

Mher takes a breath to calm themself and starts with, “We were betrayed by one of our members.”

“Why?”  Emmett feels genuine empathy for Mher's plight.

Mher’s fists tighten then release.  “I’ll just explain the situation from the start, “ and then they mutter, “if you’re so in the dark.”

“Wait, we need to move away from here first.  You said the energy from the bodies will draw attention, right?” Ashford asks while trying to reassure them.

“Yes, and if we leave them here …” Mher has difficulty looking at and addressing the bodies.

“I’ll take care of it.  You can stay with me, so we can follow their energy trails,” Seton says almost contemptuously.

Mher’s agitated saying, “That’s not how it works.”

“We’ll just pick a spot off the ley line and meet there.  You can travel without it, right?”  Foxyn, who’s also frustrated and eyes are red, directs the question primarily to Ashford while glancing at Mher.

“Pick somewhere close for the time being and then we’ll go from there.  Though I’d rather not be split up.”  Ashford goes to rub his head but pulls back when he remembers the cut’s there.

“The three of you are injured; you should get away from here so you can rest safely.  I can handle the bodies easily,” Seton assures.

Foxyn and Mher quietly argue over spots on the map while Ashford anxiously awaits their decision.  A point is decided and they split up.  Ashford, Emmett, and Foxyn trudge along while Mher stays behind with Seton.  Seton drags the bodies away from the river - out of sight of the ley line.

He has them propped up then pulls out pliers; Seton tells Mher, void of expression, “You’re sensitive to all this.  You should close your eyes and cover your ears.”

“You’re going to -” the disgust is caught in Mher’s throat.

“It’s how I get paid,” Seton explains flatly.

“You had me stay behind to subject me to this?!” Mher accuses vehemently, nose wrinkled and ears flat.

“No, I want to offer you a deal.”  Mher glares apprehensively.  “I steal back your source sachet and in exchange you provide me something valuable.”

“We don’t use currency,”  Mher says.

“I suspected as much, but I’m sure there’s a ley line out there that could lead to a pocket of gems that I could sell,” Seton’s greedy grin is absent instead an undercurrent of dead seriousness runs through his empty expression.

“If mine alone went missing, the other Alderkin could easily identify me.”  The betrayal still weighing on them.

“You could just go on the run.”  Seton gives them an uncanny stare.

“The life of a traveller is equivalent to that of a fugitive, isn’t it?” Mher intones sarcastically.

“You can leave this country behind; doubt the army would waste resources to go that far.”

“But my community is -” Mher’s words are caught up on the thought of leaving them behind and staying with them.

“Your community that betrayed you,” Seton reminds.

“It was only one person,” Mher defends.

“But you don’t trust them.” Seton states.

“And you expect me to trust you?!” Mher retaliates.

“I’m spelling out my gain for you,” Seton says easily.

“You could just as easily tell the commander and turn me in for some other prize with a wealthier patron,” B spits bitterly.

Mher catches the slight shift in Seton’s eye but he corrects saying, “I wouldn’t have any proof to bring forth.”  He gives an uncomfortable wave of the pliers and Mher shudders.

“No.”  Mher asserts coldly.  They’re annoyed by Seton’s detachment, and shocked when he sticks the pliers in the man’s mouth.  Mher rushes to cover their ears and snap shut their eyes, abhorring the violent rip.  They walk away with a sick pit in their stomach.

They’re trying to focus on meditating when they sense Seton’s eventual return.  Mher peeks, prepared for blood. But there’s none.  Seton stops with some space between them.

Mher uncovers their ears and Seton apathetically says, “I thought we might understand each other.”

Confused, Mher asks, “About what?”

“That this war has nothing to do with us; that its outcome doesn’t affect us.”  Mher’s not so socially unaware that they're unfamiliar with manipulation, but there’s something strange.

“It does affect me,” Mher tries to keep their voice calm, “The armies were attacking us at random.  Accusing us of being spies or mistaking us for enemies.  I only came because I thought we’d discuss a resolution to the matter, not … forced to participate.”

Seton takes their words in silently.  He’s deep in thought before suggesting, “If you were being attacked before then circumstances wouldn’t change much if it were stolen.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so fixated on this.  If you want to leave then you can flee anytime you like,” Mher says.

“I’m not trying to run away,” Seton sounds exasperated at having to repeat himself, “I want an endless source of money.  An Alderkin like you could easily provide that.”

“Maybe a different Alderkin will take you up on your offer,” Mher says coldly then stands up.  They don’t speak the entire time Mher takes them to the chosen point.

Returning to the group they begin urgently discussing their path forward.  Foxyn’s distrust of Mher has grown and Mher is less reluctant to leave the path in someone else’s hands.  They do express a desire to remain near the ley line which Ashford agrees to, so they work out a path that runs roughly parallel to one.

“Now that we’ve settled that,” Ashford, worn out, asks Mher, “Can you tell us about what happened?”

After their discussion with Seton, Mher feels more disheartened about their circumstances but begins sharing details.  “We had gathered to discuss the Wallard’s attacks on our members.  One member had collected our source sachets under the guise of giving added protection.  Then fled along the ley line to lure us to one of Wallard’s camps.  He handed our source sachets over to the commander in exchange for luxuries and promised to only use us for communication.  None of us are here of our own volition; even the betrayer was crossed.  The commander made another promise to him should he act as his personal communicator.”

“Did the commander say when the source sachets would be returned?” Ashford inquires.

“I have no delusions about ever seeing my source sachet again… While we were with the army I could still sense its energies… but they could have destroyed it by now,” Mher says with an air of hopelessness.

“If you have the ability to sense them, then they’ll keep them hostage as long as you remain obedient,” Seton comments as he cleans his weapon.

“Why don’t you just make a new one?” Foxyn’s voice is spiteful though his question is logical.

“Alderkin only directly enter the ley line twice in their life.  First, when they’re able to walk on their own and last when they take their last walk.  We take a pouch made by a guardian or the community and we collect a piece of the source.  Before we pass we give back what we took … Our  source sachet amplifies our connection.”

Foxyn had latched onto a meaner question to ask, “What if someone dies before giving it back?”

Mher doesn’t have the energy to be angry at the question but Ashford chastises, “Foxyn!”

“When there’s an unexpected death, the pouch is given to an elder who is already going on the journey.”

Ashford gives Foxyn a look that says ‘stop prying’, but Foxyn asks another question without aggression, “Why don’t you take more from the ley line to have a stronger connection?”

“Aside from respect and tradition.  More source sachets cause a greater disruption in the flow of energy.  Travelling alone with one piece is okay, but in groups we have to dampen the strength of our source sachets to not disturb the places we go.”

They talk a short while before leaving for the spot where they’ll spend the night.  Emmett is quiet and drained.  Foxyn struggles to sleep and accepts a sleep aid from Seton, for a price.

It’s well into the next day while travelling north when Emmett suddenly grabs Foxyn’s shoulder.  “Emmett?” Foxyn’s voice wells with concern.

“I … need to stop,” Emmett’s voice is defeated and hands sweaty.  Emmett and Ashford guide him to a soft spot before he passes out.  Ashford starts undoing bandages exposing warm red skin.  Uncovering the eye, it’s swollen and bubbling with puss.  Mher sees Ashford’s flash of fear.

“I’ll return to the ley line to find herbs for fever and infection.”  They turn for the ley line, but Ashford grabs them.

“Wait!”  Ashford’s torn, looking between all of them, searching for a solution.  “You two stay with him and clean his wounds.  I’ll go with you in case there are Misthen.”

“... Alright,” Mher heeds.  They slip a pouch from their cloak and place it in Emmett’s pocket.  “It’ll amplify protection while we’re gone,” they explain.  Foxyn nods, worried himself and prepared to accept anything.  Ashford and Mher take off for the ley line.