Ashford foists his blanket onto Seton who relays, “I found the traitor and tactician at the inn along with a box with sachets. He doesn’t know which one I took and interestingly, he didn’t scream for help. Maybe he thinks he’ll get in trouble if one’s missing.”

“I always thought he was passive, but… maybe there’s more to it… maybe he doesn’t want it getting out to the other Alderkin that the source sachets can be stolen so easily…” Mher ponders.

“...I wouldn’t say easy, but at risk of you snarkily accusing me of bragging, I wouldn’t expect just anyone to be able to do it.” A ghost of a smile appears on his face. “Any Alderkin willing to threaten their kin…” a thought occurs to Seton, “Can any Alderkin manipulate plants?”

“If they have an affinity for the plant they have a stronger influence over it. Usually, one draws out more potent energies from it… why?” Mher can already guess.

“What about using ivy as a key?” Seton asks.

“...Ivy is very adaptable; I don’t think many other plants could perform like that… And before you ask; no other Alderkin wouldn’t be able to persuade ivy to do that.” Their seclusion is coming back to bite them in their unfamiliarity with their own kin’s abilities.

“...Is it possible the ivy seed was from the source of the ley line?” Seton asks for sake of clarity.

Mher pauses. Then they untie their pouch; “Did it look like this?” Inside are marigold petals and a golden seed. Unremarkable to Seton, but priceless for Mher.

“Yes, but his was split open,” Seton says.

“I’m waiting for a special occasion before having mine sprout,” Mher says with a sad smile.

“How’d you know which one it is?” Ashford asks.

“I assume he put together ‘Mher-igold’,” Mher grins smugly but then sees Seton’s amused face.

“Like I know flowers,” he says sarcastically, “I smelled it.”

“Of course, what was I thinking? You only care about soaps and baths, that has nothing to do with plants.”

“You think I can afford fancy soaps?” Seton asks.

“A man of character like you would never steal something like that for his own gain,” Mher smiles.

“I wouldn’t risk the money,” he answers smartly. “So which way to the hostel?”

Mher perks up with sudden realization, “Are you coming with?”

“Why would I go through all the trouble not to come?”

With disbelief they only manage to ask, “Why?”

Seton’s unchanging face warms a touch. “The thought crossed my mind while we crossed the mountains that I wouldn’t mind if the trip took longer. For all the peril the unit was subject to… you all were still… ‘gentle’.” With a far off look he says, “It was nicer to be around people like you.”

Mher’s heart skips a bit at the raw and honest words of this stone-faced mercenary. “Despite my circumstances… I can’t say the same thought didn’t cross my mind. In my role I spend most of the year alone, a job I take pride in and a solitude that gives me peace, but I would enjoy continuing to be your guide.”

Seton has the faintest smile, meanwhile Ashford is vaguely content or even happy for them. For a short period, Seton rests and Ashford- now dry enough- applies bandages. When they’re ready to depart Mher leads them south to stealthily join the treeline after which they follow it east emerging on a well worn trail.

Looking forward the way is clear and looking back Mher’s kin fight for their lives. They wouldn’t think less of any of them if they called Mher a traitor for abandoning them. They want to call out to them.

Their ear flicks having thought they heard an animal step in the forest. They turn just as the messenger with her ride appears. Mher’s face drops.

“Going somewhere?” Despite the sudden ambush her voice reflects ease and disinterest.

Mher thinks over what they remember about her nature but comes up with very little. “Ashford has the memory parasite. I want to get him help.”

“Why?” her question being to discern motive rather than morality.

“...Because I want to help him,” though repetitive, their feelings were as simple as that.

“You didn’t want to help him when you met him.”

Her words aren’t harsh but true, so Mher responds in kind, “...I fell for him.” She turns to look at the unassuming soldier, who’s own surprise is directed at Mher.

A self-deprecating smile breaks through and she says, “I’ve fallen in love too.” Mher has difficulty reading her or her words, unsure if she’s mocking them. “I never considered myself a hunter, but…” she looks at the battlefield with sinister joy, “I’m enamored with the thrill of the chase as predator and prey. The secrets and inner workings… to be able to put my life on the line… I’ve finally been given a sense of purpose.” She turns her attention back to Mher; “I’ll report that your whole unit died.”

Mher and Seton are mystified by this turn of events. “But, why would you? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“They’d have to find out first,” she smirks. “Suppose someone notices a lack of bodies, it wouldn’t immediately implicate me. It goes against your objective to return and admit to treason.

“And if they catch you lying?” Seton asks.

“You all came to Inveilin, didn’t you?”

Mher shivers, after so irreversibly changed with so few words. Seton’s prompted to say, “So you could be lying to us now to make us easier targets. Lowering our guards.”

“I might. It depends what’s more exciting when the time comes.” She casually attaches three black cords making a full set of six.

“Wouldn’t it be most exciting to let us go in case we interfere with the army’s plans at a later date?”

Her evil smile deepens. “Is that a promise?”

“Maybe,” Ashford’s voice is clear and level.

“Haha. Guess we’ll see what happens.” She tugs the feline’s reins back to the forest and leaves Mher with parting words in the Alderkin’s language, “Good luck.”

Mher’s stunned by their interaction. “...Was that alright for me to say?” Ashford asks Mher.

“I’d say so,” Seton says before Mher can answer. “I’ve already interfered and I can think of a few profitable ways to continue to do so. Or we’ll disappear so it doesn’t matter either way.”

Still Ashford looks for Mher’s answer. “It’ll be alright.” They continue to walk away from the battlefield.

Ashford considers not bringing it up but curiosity gets the better of him. “Do you really like me?”

Mher blushes and softly says, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have feelings for others like that,” Ashford says apologetically.

Mher smiles. “I’m not too worried about that.”

Ashford cocks his head curiously. “Was it mutual?”

Seton answers in place of Mher, “You two aren’t particularly shy.”

Both are red and panicked Ashford asks, “In what way?”

“You had your hands all over them,” Seton teases.

“Stop it. He did not.” Mher pouts disapprovingly at Seton.

“...Were we together?” Ashford quietly asks.

“No, it’s just a crush you don’t have to think too much about it.” Mher’s words are intended to ease him, but Ashford’s mystery memories intrigue him.

Seton stumbles but catches himself. Mher says, “We’re far enough away. I’ll carry you again.”

“I’m fine.” Seton’s words are automatic

“You don’t know that,” Mher counters semi-sarcastically.

“Do you want my coat?” Ashford offers.

Seton doesn’t put up a fight when Mher lifts him onto their back. “Keep it till later. I don’t want to mess with the burns.”

“Will you pick a spot with water when we rest for the night?” It’s a mix of a question and statement from Seton.

“If it’s ideal.” Mher doesn’t want to make promises but truthfully thinks soaking their wounds would be for the best. They slip into the ley line intending to search for their destination. First however, they look back on guard and curious. The messenger has rejoined the troops, and the commander stands triumphantly on the gate’s wall, a symbol of victory. Below Seton’s captain, eagle-eyed, counts his mercenaries suspicious of an absence.

“Your captain’s searching for you,” Mher conveys to Seton.

“I’ll bet he is,” Seton says dispassionately.

“...Why are you supposed to be punished?”

“You heard that, huh?” For a moment Seton says nothing more and Mher thinks he’s not going to answer. “It’s not an official rule… but our mercenary group like to keep up the image of being unscarred. A form of utter perfect professionalism. Punishments are dished out to those who sully the image. Course we were raised with rewards and punishments, so they’ve lost their allure and deterrent. The tattoos are to cover them up. There’s only one thing he can do to me that has any real effect on me.”

Mher leaves it unsaid thinking it’s something unimaginable, but Ashford tactlessly asks, “What is it?”

“Tie me up in the center of camp so I can’t bathe, and so my comrades have free reign to do whatever they like,” Seton answers without a hint of hate.

“Because you can’t feel pain?” Ashford wonders.

“No, they’d do worse if they knew that.”

“So you’re escaping to avoid punishment?” Mher asks.

“No, I’d made up my mind this morning,” Seton says.

They’re quiet for a moment. Ashford says, “I’m sorry. I don’t remember either of you, but thank you for going so far to help me regardless.”

“...I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent what happened.”

“It’s not like we weren’t all together. You couldn’t do any more than we could… I think,” Ashford says, unknowing.

Mher smiles grimly, “I just wish I could’ve done more.”

“I think if we could, we’d all go back and do it differently. For now, let’s just make it to the hostel,” Seton says.

“...You’re right,” Mher says. And they take another step.