Eien’s lungs expanded and contracted in an alarming way, and his skin broke out in a thin sheen of sweat. The effluvium of urine pierced the air, turning pleasant, earthy nighttime aromas into a terror filled stench. He shrieked.

Aino punched him in the jaw, hard enough to jar him out of his panic.

Lights weaved in and out of his vision. A bit of vomit entered his mouth, and he spit it out next to him, shivering and rubbing at his face. His nails left angry red marks on his neck and face as he scratched, trying to rid himself of the bad feelings, the bad dream.

He pursed his lips together to turn his noises soft as his eyes roamed to the stone-faced Aino. His insides froze as she stared at him with her amber eyes.

She turned and stood facing the forest, planting her feet as she grasped the leather handle of her club she had unclipped from her belt. Aino shifted her weight, hoisted her club behind her, and hurled it into the dark.

There was a thunk, clunk, and grunt. Aino's shoulders dropped, she pulled out her knife, and she sauntered in the direction of her throw. He watched as she disappeared into the darkness, her white hair the last to disappear as it glowed in the moonlight. Eien pushed his face into his hands, relieved for a moment.

Then he breathed in and choked at the stench of his terror. Mortified, he stood up, wiping his hands on his pants, as if magically the offensive evidence would disappear. He gave up, slumped down, and pushed his hands into his eyes.

Mari would know what to do. She would cradle him and stroke his head until he calmed down. Then she would leave to get him some warm water, or milk if they had any, while he changed out of his soiled clothes. She would not say anything, but while he was drinking his water, she would change the sheets and wash his clothes. They both knew why, so it did not need to be said.

But his sister was not here anymore. He was stuck with Aino, the ice queen of death, his former squad leader, the woman who was the number one object of speculation among the soldiers and guards. Sure, she had saved him from certain death as their city of Beldam burned with bombs, rioting, and death gas, but he had no idea why she picked him to save out of all the other she could have chosen.

He rubbed his jaw and felt the familiar pull at the back of his head. He turned in the direction of the pull, thinking of Beldam.

She returned, dragging a large humanoid head, by the hair and her favorite club, a bit slick and shiny in the moonlight, swinging from her belt. Her pack was noticeably bigger.

Another round of sweat broke out over his body as a whiff of piss assailed his nose. Did she smell him? What did she think of him now that she knew he was a liability? Was she going to leave him?

Eien watched her carefully.

She casually dropped the head at the edge of the camp, ambled over to him, and squatted a bit too close for Eien's comfort. He felt a hotness in his face, and he was glad it was too dark to make out too many details. Her glowing white braid lay down her shoulder. Her amber eyes focused on his. He forced himself to keep eye contact even though everything in him screamed to turn away.

"Do you like troll meat?" she asked after an unnerving amount of time.

He stared at her. She stared at him. He looked over at the head, lumpy, bluish, dirty. He remembered where they were, remembered from what they had just escaped, remembered where they were going. And he laughed. It was a hysterical laugh, born of shock and horror, a reaction to the ridiculousness of her question in the midst of their dire circumstances.

"What the fuck?" he breathed out, trying to stop the laughter. She merely stood up and walked away.

Breakfast that morning tasted of swampy cat feces, but Eien supposed it was better than nothing. Troll would never be his favorite barely edible creature, but at least it had a chewy texture to it. Unlike the mush his sister had served him every morning when he came home.

He tried to picture his sister's face with her pudgy nose, long eyelashes, and fuzzy black hair that she tied back in a sensible bun.

It was hard to see her in his mind's eye because the last time he saw her, her face was half melted off by a bomb blast, and the image kept creeping into his head. Her eyeball had dropped to one side, her hair was replaced by white skull and black flesh. Half her body was missing and the other half was splayed out in a twisted mockery of human form. Her entrails spilled into a maze of black and red. Her mouth was forever twisted into a partial scream of horror, teeth yellowed and chipped. She had been running towards him, screaming something.

He tried to run towards her, using his strength to push people out of the way to try to make it to her. He needed to make sure she could get to safety. As long as she was safe, everything would be okay. He only needed to protect her. He was so close, but there were too many people to push through.

A bomb goes off close by, and he momentarily turns his head to see the smoke in the distance. People scream. He sees someone with a gun, a rebel. He ducks as the rebel aims and shoots at him, missing and hitting someone behind him. He hears Mari scream at him. She has stopped running. He has to take out the rebel.

He draws his own gun, kneecapping the rebel whose gunshot has cleared most of the people from the immediate area. The rebel falls while shooting, and he ducks behind a partially destroyed fruit stand to avoid the bullets. He aims for the rebel’s head and manages a critical hit to the head. The rebel does not rise.

He turns his attention back to Mari. She is still screaming something and standing still. He gets up to run to her and another bomb goes off. He watches as the explosion hits her, tearing up her body. The light blinds him and the scent of burned flesh causes him to gag.

He threw up whatever troll had managed to make it into his stomach, bringing himself into the present.

Aino, for all she was known to be cruel, merely chewed her troll as she watched him vomit. He was not sure whether to appreciate her lack of reaction or be concerned that she was still eating while the air smelled of vomit and urine.

"How much farther are we going?" Eien asked after taking a swish of water to rinse out his mouth.

She discarded a troll femur she had been picking at by flinging it at a tree nearby.

“Far,” she replied vaguely.

She wiped her hands on her pants and started stomping out the fire. Eien could not bring himself to throw away his breakfast or to eat it, so he packed it in his bag.

He helped her hide the evidence of the camp, and then he followed her as they traveled along the edge of the forest and the prairie.