Renkyk strummed his fingers on the table while he kept thinking of what he had seen with the Silver Aura and its place in that bird's body. He couldn't stop thinking about it and it had been the better part of two weeks now as the three of them meandered up the Thuunzian territory to the north of the Empire. Their progress had been slow as Galdrehln and Cetie both had to fend off nasty winter infections and were bedridden for several days. He credited his northern upbringing for whatever immunity he seemed to have to it.

He tilted his head back and forth the see if any interesting new people had entered the tavern while he was steeped in thought. Not surprisingly, none had. The inn was called the Lame Horse Inn, which appeared to be a fair description. It wasn't much to look at, made of crumbling sandstone and with a floor of cracked and misfitting wooden planks. And yet it was one of the few remaining stable outposts of civilization as they ventured further into what were called "barbarian" lands.

As a Kyosok, Renkyk had never much cared for the characterization. Kyosoks themselves had once come from those lands before migrating eastward into their new homelands in the Kastor River Valley and the adjoining western lands. It was only within the past few centuries they had been considered a proper part of the Methrangian Empire.

Thuunzian territory was still considered to be barbarian since it wasn't under the reign of the Empire and it had fairly weak central authority. The Thuunz family itself was often steeped in internal conflict and that was certainly true now. Nonetheless, the lands they claimed possessed enough small cities, towns, and other settlements to feel like it could be part of the Empire, albeit on its remote corners. The ramshackle Lame Horse Inn could've just as easily been in Vedous territory as here.

"Ya need another drink, boy?" the gruff and bald barkeep yelled at him as the barkeep cleaned off the counters. "Just remember what ya see is what ya get. We haven't had a restock in months."

"I'll just have another, um," Renkyk tried to remember what his extremely bitter ale was called. "Whatever the last one was."

The barkeep waddled over to the table, his gut swaying back and forth as the floor boards creaked under his heavy boots. He took Renkyk's mug and filled it back up out of a pitcher he kept on the counter.

"It's somethin' I came up wit last year when I saw all this trouble comin'," he puffed up with pride. "Started brewin' it meself. I call it Vorlan's Piss. Ya like that?"

Renkyk laughed and drank another swig of it, glancing around the tavern at the couple of old men who were passed out in their chairs off in the corners.

"I've always liked it when there's some bite," he said. "As for the name, what inspired that?"

"Eh, first angel I could think of. Once I settled on it, I just didn't care to e'er change it," the man laughed. "Wish I'd given it some name for Forynda. Something wit real bite in it matches up real nice wit 'er, eh?"

"Probably wouldn't do her justice," Renkyk forced an awkward laugh, recalling seeing Forynda eradicate Nethron's mortal form and consigning his spiritual essence to oblivion. Even with all he had witnessed since that time, it still burned as brightly in his memory as the day it happened. "Probably liquor's a better call for her."

"Heh. Anyway, how're yer friends doin'?" the barkeep moved on. "They were coughin' so much last night I could 'ear it from my room."

"I noticed," Renkyk laughed, recalling Galdrehln hacking and wheezing all night as he lay next to him in bed. Cetie wasn't as bad and was more clearly on the mend. Whether it was because of her tonics or not was unclear. "I'll go back up and check on them in a moment. Before I do, I was wondering if you had any advice for us as we keep going northwest this way. I should say that I'm familiar with the normal problems, but anything extra this time?"

The barkeep scratched at his beard and squinted his eyes at Renkyk.

"My advice? Don't go," he scoffed and turned around to go back to the counter. "E'reyone thinks we're all like the Herekites, but we're not. That's a different thing out 'ere."

"Supposing I've already decided to go and that's a firm, if mistaken, idea, do you have anything for me?" Renkyk's tone turned sheepish, trying to invoke pity from the barkeep.

Rubbing both hands on his head then leaning forward on the counter, causing it to valiantly struggle to hold the man's impressive girth, the barkeep sighed and looked silently at Renkyk for a few seconds.

"Alright. So, what ya do is ya stay as much due west as ya can. Got it? There's a road of sorts Herekites and others use for movin' 'round. You'll know it when ya see it," he gestured with his hands vaguely toward the west as he spoke. "Stay as close to that as ya can. If ya stay near it, ya'll find a place called, fuck... what's that thing? Um... Forig's Crossin'. That's the one. What ya do once ya get there is yer thing."

In truth, all he wanted to do was get far away from the war. Thuunzian territory was too close to the war raging in the north central region between the House of Kedholn and Empress Evinda's family lands, not to mention that the Thuunzs had mostly taken Forynda's side. Mostly. It'd only be a matter of time before these lands were subsumed into the war. He needed a period away from it to master the Silver Aura and formulate his plans.

"Getting there is fine enough for now," Renkyk said and took a heavy swig of his ale. It instantly hit him wrong as he stood up, his feet having trouble finding the floor below. "Now it's time to check on my sick friends. Thanks for your help."

He went up the uneven and creaking wooden stairs and down the hall to the room at the end. Renkyk was expecting hear horrible dry coughs, but didn't. When he opened the door, he saw Cetie working at a table with some leaves and mosses while Galdrehln was passed out in bed, wrapped tight in his blankets. An empty potion bottle lay next to him in bed just past his fingers.

"I take it you gave him something?" he asked after closing the door.

She didn't look up from what she was working on. Cetie had separated a couple different glowing Aura strands from the plants in front of her and now carefully examined them. Their green and brown light hit her blue skin and flickered in her yellow eyes while she twisted them about.

"Yes, but I had to improvise," she murmured while smashing the strands together, creating a strangely colored muck that she then plopped into a small bottle. "Not enough ingredients around here because then land's so barren."

"I'm sorry, can't help that," he said, sitting down in a rocking chair next to Galdrehln as the latter slept. Renkyk noticed he'd spilled a little ale on his silver-hued robe, but was exhausted enough he stopped caring right away. "This isn't a land of abundance up here."

Cetie laughed and arranged her potion bottles according to the colors of the substances in them. Renkyk had never bothered to ask if they were all beneficent concoctions or if she dabbled in anything less wholesome.

"I guess that explains why it's remained independent after all these years, eh?" she shook her head. "But, anyway, I gave Gald something to help soothe his lungs. It worked well enough for me, as you can see... and hear, I suppose."

"I'll give you that," Renkyk sighed with a smirk. He took a cloth from his pocket and dabbed sweat off of Galdrehln's head. "Assuming it works and holds, with the weather getting better, we can continue on."

"And this is something I wanted to ask you a bit more about, because I hadn't really thought about it all the way through. You really want to try to, I don't know, win over a bunch of people to come around to how you see things?" Cetie probed with a mischievous lilt.

"When you put it that way it sounds insane, but think about it for a moment. With the things each of us can do, I think we can impress some of these people. I really mean that," Renkyk replied, trying to convey the earnestness he actually felt. "Make it clear that they're not helpless against the tides of this war, that there's something else beyond slobbering at the feet of Forynda or Omonrel or whomever."

"Beyond slobbering... Yes, that was what I was hoping for," Nethron's voice echoed in his head. "I am glad you took that to heart."

Cetie nodded and fidgeted with her potion bottles.

"Aren't you worried about not finding a friendly audience?" she tried again.

"Something I believe, even though it makes me feel stupid sometimes, is that people will know the truth when they see it. I think that's a universal fact," he said, folding his hands together. "Now, they might reject it because they find it uncomfortable or someone is trying to threaten them out of it, but I don't believe that can keep going forever. This idiotic war has killed millions at this point. I know people will be desperate for something else. I sensed it among the soldiers I fought with."

Her eyes drifted down to her potion bottles as she continued to fidget with them.

"I wish I could believe these things that easily. I'm trying," she lamented. "I know what you basically mean, of course. I came searching for Nethron for that reason. That's how I ended up in this part of the world. Then I was too late. Forynda already banished Nethron by the time I got here. I guess I'm lucky then, eh? If I'd been there when that all happened, I'd be dead."

Renkyk chuckled and grasped Galdrehln's right hand as he continued to sit next to him.

"And we're only here because Forynda decided to spare us on what appeared to be a whim," he trailed off. "That still haunts my dreams."

"From what Gald was saying, it sounds like this Commander Dastov is even scarier than Forynda," Cetie said. "Do you think he's still after you?"

Renkyk jolted at the mention of Dastov's name. He kept trying to avoid even thinking of the fact that Dastov had sworn to hunt him to the ends of the mortal world if Renkyk ever betrayed him.

"I think he has more important things to worry about, thankfully," he shook his head, but felt sweat accumulating on the back of his neck. "He's one of the most dangerous men I've ever met, though. I don't even know what motivates him."

"I'm not liking what I'm hearing on this," Cetie folded her arms and laughed. "From what you and Gald have said, he definitely sounds like the sort of man who would try to make you pay, even if he's got better things to do."

Galdrehln groaned slightly and flopped over to his left side. While still asleep, he tightened his grip on Renkyk's hand.

"I'll tell you what I told him," Renkyk said, tilting his head at Galdrehln. "We survived Forynda sending Nethron to oblivion. We survived a wild beast trying to kill me. We survived being captured by Dastov. We survived a calamity in our training under Dastov. We survived Gorondos's assault. We survived the Battle of Eynond. We survived being hunted down by Captain Erdinov, one of Dastov's right-hand men. None of that had to happen. I know it sounds irrational, but I believe that we're meant to do great things."

"It could all be luck," Cetie said with a smirk.

"No one's that lucky," Renkyk rolled his eyes. "I don't know why this is all happening, but I'm going to see it through as long as it goes. We're going to see it through."

Cetie played around with three of her potion bottles in her hands while he talked and then put them into the small burlap sack she kept at her side.

"One thing I'll admit, you're convincing. Maybe you can bring people over," she dropped her constant jesting demeanor and suddenly sounded far more earnest than she had ever before. "Just stay grounded."

Just stay grounded, Renkyk mused on those words as he had fitful sleep the whole night next to Galdrehln. Stay grounded. Nice and specific.

When it came to the early morning hours, Renkyk had an urgent need to relieve himself in the outhouse just to the back of the tavern. He was careful to not wake either Galdrehln, who was hopeless knocked out by Cetie's concoctions, or Cetie as she slept across the room in the larger of the room's two beds.

He lightly traipsed down the hall and started descending the stairs when he heard the barkeep around the corner talking to someone whose voice he hadn't heard in the tavern before.

"So, what brings ya 'ere, anyway? Sounds like yer a long ways from home with an accent like that," the barkeep guffawed.

"Business," the deep feminine voice said. "On behalf of the Emperor."

Renkyk stopped breathing for several seconds and pressed himself tight against the wall, trying to avoid placing any additional weight on the stairs that might make them creak.

"Uh huh. Which Emperor? Two of 'em call 'emselves that," the barkeep scoffed.

"Emperor Rohmhelt, the rightful Emperor by law," the woman's voice continued. "I'm on the hunt for two deserters from the Emperor's army. These are dangerous men."

"Sounds like very crucial stuff. What makes ya think there's anythin' 'ere for ya?" the barkeep asked, laughing and making a sound that must have been his hands slapping his gut. "Nothin' that interesting has 'appened 'ere in years."

"Information is my trade, my good sir," she continued, stepping around with boots that made a horrible racket on that unsteady floor. "I was told that a Kyosok, red-skinned folk, and a Nimorsian..."

"I know what those words are, ma'am," the barkeep continued laughing. "So, yer sayin' a red-skinned man and a green-'aired man came up this way based on what people were tellin' ya?"

Renkyk swallowed hard. He thought about sprinting back to the room, picking up Galdrehln and waking Cetie, and jumping out the window to hope for the best. Or maybe he could kill this woman. A pulse from the Silver Aura would do it. But what if she expected it? Dastov would've told her.

"That's right," the woman answered while Renkyk was paralyzed in thought. "See anyone like that?"

Now he truly stopped breathing. It got to the point his fingers tingled and he was drenched in sweat. He worried he might tumble down the stairs from being dizzy and just end it right then and there. How Cetie would laugh at that after he gave his speech to her. How sad Galdrehln would be, even if he lived to mourn Renkyk. It was all too terrible to contemplate. His doom was only maybe twenty feet and one simple mistake away.

"I 'ave, actually," the barkeep said, dropping his defiant demeanor. Renkyk felt a sharp stabbing pain in his head from the panic. He couldn't believe it. It had to be a nightmare. "They already went east."

"East?" the woman inquired.

"Makes sense. The red-skinned folk live out that way, that's where that one's from. Didn't tell me where, exactly. Just somewhere that way."

Renkyk's entire body loosened at once

"How long ago did they leave?" the woman asked.

"That was last night. They 'ave a couple other folk with 'em now, by the way," the barkeep said. "A party of four. A Vedous man, very tall as they all are, and another red-skinned. They paid well."

"With the Emperor's coin," the woman grumbled and slammed what must have been a heavy bag of coins down on the table. "Thank you."

Renkyk continue his silent bracing against the wall of the stairwell until he heard those heavy boots stomp out of the inn and the door closed. He started breathing again and slumped fully onto the stairs. He heard the barkeep's lumbering steps come his way and up the first set of stairs before they turned to the left toward the rooms.

"I like ya, boy," he whispered without even coming into sight. "I knew that was you. She'll figure it out soon, I think. Ya best get movin' this mornin'. Hide yer tracks better than you've been doin'. And follow my advice about where to go. Wish ya the best."

"Thank you," Renkyk said. "I can't even tell you how thankful I..."

"I've 'eard that before," the barkeep leaned around the corner, revealing part of his bulbous face in the dim light. "I don't trust these types. No one should. Yer a good bloke and I hope ya know if ya need anythin' in the future, come this way."

The barkeep trudged back to the counter and began cleaning up for the day. Renkyk rubbed his face and began thinking how he would explain all that had just happened to Galdrehln and Cetie. Regardless of how'd he put it, they'd have to come along. There wasn't much time. They were, after all, being followed.