“So… where exactly are you two headed?” he asked, a genuine curiosity in his voice.

Low, ever practical, kept her gaze fixed on the path ahead, her hand resting on her pouch of rocks. “Well, I’m going to the capital.” She stated it as a simple fact, the determination in her voice leaving little room for argument.

Leonotis blinked, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes. “The capital? That's where I'm going to! Gethii and Chinakah… they went there to see the King.” A knot of worry tightened in his chest. He needed to know they were alright. “Yeah, I… I think I need to go to the Capital too. To… make sure they’re okay.”

Jacqueline, who had been walking silently beside them, her gaze often drifting towards the distant, mist-shrouded peaks, finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. “My path lies elsewhere. I must go to the Ocean Orisha mountain shrine.” She tilted her head, her blue eyes holding a distant, almost ethereal quality.

Low stopped abruptly, turning to face Jacqueline with a skeptical frown. “An ocean orisha shrine? Up in those mountains? I've never heard of a shrine up there.”

Jacqueline’s lips curved into a small smile. “You may be surprised, Low, but it's there. And it is… important. For reasons I cannot fully explain.” She glanced at Leonotis, then back at the looming mountains. “It is a journey I must undertake.”

Leonotis, caught between Low’s pragmatic skepticism and Jacqueline’s mysterious conviction, felt a bit lost himself. “So… the Capital for me, and the Capital for Low, and a water mountain shrine for you?” He gestured vaguely, trying to piece together their disparate destinations. “That’s… not exactly straightforward.” He amended his earlier thought of "convenient."

Low snorted, resuming her walk. “About as straightforward as finding a spider in your bedroll.” She eyed Jacqueline with a hint of suspicion that was quickly becoming her default expression when dealing with the serene girl. “What’s so special about this ‘Water Mountain Shrine’ anyway? Is there some kind of magical fish market up there, or a secret spring that grants wishes?”

Jacqueline smiled softly, a hint of sadness in it this time. “Nothing quite so mundane, nor perhaps so immediately rewarding. It holds something… essential. Something I need to restore.” Her gaze drifted to the distant peaks again, as if she could see the shrine itself.

Low still looked unconvinced, kicking at a loose stone. "Essential how? Like, essential for you, or essential for the whole world? Because if it's the latter, maybe we should *all* be heading for this magic mountain." Her tone was dry, but a sliver of genuine, if grudging, curiosity peeked through.

Jacqueline merely shook her head, her enigmatic smile unwavering. "It is a personal matter, for now. But thank you for your… directness, Low."

Leonotis jumped in, sensing Low might press further and not wanting their fragile alliance to shatter. "Right, well, personal matters are personal! Like my personal matter of wanting to find my friends and make sure they haven’t been turned into royal paperweights by this King everyone seems so nervous about." He tried for a light tone, but the worry for Gethii and Chinakah was a real ache. Despite his own pressing need to find them, he felt a strange sense of loyalty forming towards these two unlikely companions. “Well,” he said, more seriously now, “maybe we can stick together until our paths absolutely have to diverge. The world’s a surprisingly small place sometimes, or so I’ve… vaguely heard.” He shrugged, a gesture he’d picked up from Gethii. “Besides, who knows what kind of trouble we’d all get into on our own?” He looked from Low’s wary expression to Jacqueline’s distant one. He remembered Gethii’s lessons on the strength of a well-knit shield-wall versus a lone spear.

Low grumbled under her breath but didn't outright refuse. "Three targets might be better than one, or just three times as clumsy. Depends on the trouble, and who’s causing it." She shot a pointed look at Leonotis, then a softer, appraising one at Jacqueline. "You can stop a river. That's… not nothing. And you," she added, glancing at Leonotis, "you swing that stick like you mean it."

Jacqueline inclined her head towards Low. "And you are resourceful, Low. Your instincts are sharp." A faint, genuine smile touched her lips as she looked at Leonotis. "And Leonotis is… surprisingly resilient, and his heart is in the right place."

Leonotis felt a warmth spread in his chest at Jacqueline's words, a small seed of confidence taking root. He was still just a boy with a root for a sword, but maybe, just maybe, he was becoming something more to these new, unexpected friends.

"Come on, it's getting really late and I'm tired. Let's hurry and find somewhere to camp," Leonotis said, the earlier attempt at lightness now replaced by a genuine weariness. The moon was climbing higher, casting long, dancing shadows that made every rustle in the undergrowth sound like a lurking threat.

Low nodded, the practical need for rest overriding her skepticism for the moment. "He's right. Arguing about mystical mountains won't keep the night creatures away, or fill our bellies. Lead on then, 'Captain Leonotis'," she said, with a trace of her usual sarcasm, but it lacked its usual bite, softened perhaps by shared danger and the moonlit path.

They pushed on for another half hour, the forest growing denser, the air cooling against their skin. Finally, Jacqueline, whose quiet gaze seemed to notice things the others missed, pointed to a small, sheltered alcove formed by a tumble of moss-covered boulders, near a stream whose quiet murmur promised fresh water. "This will do," she said softly. "It offers some cover, and the sound of the water will mask our own."

They set about making a rudimentary camp, the shared tasks – gathering dry leaves for bedding, finding fallen branches for a small, smokeless fire that Low expertly coaxed to life – creating a temporary truce between their diverging plans and personalities. Leonotis found a patch of berries that looked identical to ones Gethii had once shown him were safe, and Low confirmed it with a nod. The weariness was a heavy cloak on all of them, but as Leonotis watched Low arrange their meager supplies and Jacqueline hum a soft, almost inaudible tune while she cleaned a few broad leaves to use as plates, he felt a fragile sense of belonging, a small flicker of hope in the vast, dark woods.