“Get your ass up,” Nyx shouted down at Argo who was laying still in his sleeping mat. He groaned, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over his ears and face before rolling over.

“Just one more minute.” He planted his fingers over his ears, a last ditch effort to block out the noise of the world.

“Yeah right.” She growled, her voice low, but tinged with a hint of a laugh which had long since died before reaching her mouth. She reached down, grabbed the blanket and ripped it free from Argo’s weak grasp. He gasped, suddenly met with the cold air of a winter morning. Light stung his eyes far more painfully than the blades of many warriors he had met before.

“Is he like this every day?” Argo heard Ryle say as he stepped up next to Nyx, both of whom looked down upon him.

“No, not every day…” She let her words hang, he knew as well as she did that of their five days travelling he had taken second watch all but one due to the effort it took for him to truly wake up. As Argo sat, he took a small look around the simple camp they had established. Their fire had long since been put out, though with the quality of the sticks it seemed more like water had been thrown on or it had been suffocated of air rather than naturally burning its course. 

He climbed to his feet, taking Ryle’s hand to help him up. It had been two days since the musician had joined their group, and ever since he had travel had been progressing fast. His knowledge of wind allowed them to propel their horse’s speed. A simple day of travel with this wind enhanced speed had allowed them to cross a distance greater than what three normal days would have taken. 

He stretched as he walked across the mostly packed camp. Wisps of smoke curled above the dead fire, though by the time they reached eye level they had all but faded from sight. 

“How far are we from Riverfell?” Nyx asked as she moved her curled up sleeping mat and strapped it to the back of her horse. As she did so both Winston and Argo’s still unnamed horse spent time grazing, it would be another hard day of riding.

“If we move at the same speed as yesterday we should arrive by morning. Once we enter the roughs we can’t stop so we will be moving through the night. Can you manage a day's worth of enhancement?” He shot back to Ryle who sat on a log, his fingers moving seamlessly over the strings of his lute producing a calm stream of music.

“Not for myself and the two horses. We will need to take a break at a point and travel slower. I can likely do eight hours uninterrupted.”

“It will have to work. We can’t stop when we enter, coming across any who inhabit the region will be far from safe.

“Then let's get going,” Nyx said, hopping onto Winston’s back. A few moments later after Argo packed up he mounted his own horse. Ryle plucked a chord and the wind itself sought to assist him, soon they were off.

* * *

Hours passed underfoot, hours passed with Argo’s thighs screaming in pain. Somehow they even outstripped the pains of his injuries from the past few days, those wounds were but scratches before the chaffing of his thighs. They slowly climbed up hills and mountains, often being forced to dismount their horses to traverse the less stable terrain safely. Despite that, their travel towards the roughs went as well as one could expect. They passed towns, a few cities and plenty of farms. This far to the east, they were unlikely to find anything else. Slowly the roads that they road upon became less maintained, the farms became fewer and fewer and the towns all but ceased to appear. By the time they had gone an hour without seeing a building or farm, he knew that they were there.

“Keep an eye out from now on Ryle.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The bard seemed to dismiss what Argo had said. They moved slowly through the forest, he had declared just a short while after the sun had reached its apex that he could no longer enhance them for a few hours, needing his break.

“Ryle,” Nyx spoke, her voice cold. The boy almost collapsed from shock. She had remained quiet most of the trip, likely escaping his mind. However like a pole you didn’t see till you walked into it, Nyx jolted Ryle’s mind.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll be alert.” He paused, closing his eyes. A moment later he reopened them, the expression on his face far more serious. “No one is close to us, though the animals about half a kilometre westwards seem to be disturbed.”

“Good.” Argo nodded, and the group continued forward. After another fifteen minutes of travelling in silence, he passed the reins of his horse to Ryle and fell back to walk in pace with Nyx. Ryle took the reins, hooked them to his arm and then took his lute and began to strum whilst they continued forward.

“How’s the travel been fairing for you?” He asked, testing the waters to see if she was in the mood for a conversation. He felt like they had been growing closer over the past few days, but she still often seemed reserved and rarely spoke first to him.

“It’s been well. And yourself? I can see that your thighs must ache from the way you’re walking.” 

“Yeah. It’s been okay, though you’re right my thighs are killing me.”

“I’d have expected you to be a more experienced rider, you’ve been in the guild far longer than I have.”

“I am!” Argo stalked off to the side, arms crossed. A light chuckle escaped Nyx's lips as she raised her gloved hand to cover her mouth. The glove was fingerless, allowing her to retain grip on weapons in combat, yet it provided some warmth whilst travelling mountains in the middle of winter. “Seriously, everyone told me that it’d stop hurting after a while, but it’s just as painful now as when I started. It’s as if everyone told me to just stab myself a bunch and that’d get less painful the more I did.”

“What do you mean? That is how it works” She asked with a tone so authentic that he found himself questioning whether she was being serious or not for far too long. A wide grin cut along her face as she looked at the confused expression on Argo’s. “Seriously, how Tor managed to train someone so gullible is beyond me.”

He stalled for a moment, letting her walk past him. To her, his master referred to in such a casual manner would always be a shock. During their training, even well beyond it he learned to never disrespect him, lest his passions show their face. “You act like Ginny didn’t train you to lie. I swear she could tell a painter that the sky was brown and it would influence a whole generation.”

They continued to talk, back and forth, as they moved through the hilly terrain of the Eastern roughs. After a short while longer Ryle fell back towards them, the reins of both horses tied around his wrist, making his hand seem slightly pale. 

“Any song you want to hear?” He unstrung the lute from his back, struck a chord, turned a few pegs and then waited for a response.

“Yeah, can you play The Ballad of Thayla?” Nyx asked, a warmth in her voice that Argo hadn’t before picked up on. He turned to face her. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she waited, just what significance did this song have to her? Would he ever know?

“Of course.” The man spoke, confidence and bravado in his voice. He almost seemed like they were attributes which belonged to him, almost. He put his hands to the strings of the lute and note by note he began to tease the song from nothing into existence. Argo let himself be lulled by the music and as Ryle began to sing with his low baritone he was happily surprised to hear Nyx respond with harmonies in her tenor. Their voices mixed together, creating something far greater than they could on their own. At that moment, as they travelled up the hills of the Eastern roughs Argo was not filled with a sense of happiness or contentment that he could have expected, rather an immense sense of loss flooded him. And something else, another emotion carved its way into his heart as he looked at the two singing, and all he could do was keep walking. That emotion, whatever it had been, was lost in the torrent of his grief, his mind was thrown back to days when he would have sat in front of a fire listening to his mother and father sing. Tears started to well up in his eyes, however he quickly blinked them away.

The music unravelled and Argo became aware of both Ryle and Nyx looking at him. She touched his arm lightly and he felt his heart jolt. “Are you okay?”

He straightened his back, blinked three times in quick succession and nodded his head. “All fine.”

“If you want to speak about it…”

“I’m fine Nyx.”

“Well then, if both of you are fine let’s get back to the music. Here, let me play one of the songs I have decoded so far from the book I got.” Ryle seemed almost oblivious to the clearly painted emotions on Argo’s face, and he was happy about it.

“Go ahead.” 

“Argo-” Nyx began, however she was quickly cut off by a series of strings being played in quick succession. Ryle weaved a song a master would be hard pressed to create, his hands flew across the neck of the instrument, his fingers danced and the melodies he played merged together. The wind itself played the harmonies to the melodies he created, and he garnered the attention of the whole forest. Eventually, they came to a stop, just to listen to him play. The horses seemed to be almost as infatuated as Nyx and Argo were themselves. Then it ended.

“What was the piece called?” Argo found himself asking. He didn’t know why. He was far from what he’d have considered a music person, and yet having listened to that work left him with a deep longing. Nostalgia flooded his body in equal parts with his blood, half memories in his mind resurfacing, ones he wished would remain forgotten.

“To fish with the family. Though that may have been a simple description. But still, it's beautiful, though without being a Knower I have no clue how one man could hope to play it, with all the conflicting harmonies.”

“It truly was beautiful. Ginny would love it.”

“This is the second time you have mentioned that name, you both will tell me who she is right?” 

“Sure.” They continued walking as Nyx debriefed Ryle on who Ginny was, she made sure to neglect mention of their profession, rather calling her a combat trainer and an ex-mercenary. The term assassin got many people in a state not conducive to work. 

After walking for a bit longer Ryle declared himself refreshed. Nyx helped Argo up onto his horse, one of his wounds proving too painful at the moment to do it himself before she mounted Winston. Ryle struck a chord and the wind came to their aid and then they were off towards Riverfell. After seven years Argo would finally be back home.