“Idiots!” Vito exclaimed, pissed that they hadn't listened when he was so sure, but also appalled and very shocked over the violence. Then realization hit him once again. It had happened. It had actually happened: his vision had come true. Something wasn’t entirely right, however. There was one difference, one very important one. They were still standing. He held that straw, that feeble straw, and hoped that he still could be considered a normal person: a person who didn’t see things before they happened.

He looked up at the others and at that exact moment he could see their heads turn towards him. Each one with an expression of disbelief written across their face, but also fear, fear of death. Yes, the Destroyer was close, even Vito could feel him. He could feel him approaching rapidly, the rage almost tangible in the air, then relief as the Destroyer faded away, cheated of his reapings.

“Did you feel that?” he asked to no one in particular. He looked up and saw the two fighters staring at each other again, apparently not dead, either of them. Thank Io!

“Who are you?” the woman said, turning her head towards him again. She was breathtaking in a way, and looked deceivingly soft even if she was clad in black leather that was cut for a man rather than for a woman. Her appearance almost scared him as much as her fighting skills. He didn't know what to make of her.

“I don’t know...” he answered, because he didn't. He was lost, completely lost. In that moment he didn't know himself.

“You saved my life,” she said, blinking repeatedly with thick lashes that framed a pair of large golden eyes, as if she didn't believe it herself. Vito couldn’t take in what she was saying. He was shaking, shaking from within, completely ripped open, no ground beneath his feet. Did he really see that scene before it happened, or was he just fooling himself? Who was he?

“Why were you fighting?” he asked. He felt absolutely confused about everything, but perhaps they could answer this, answer something.

They didn’t, and he recognized that it would be futile to ask for more. They were not going to talk about it. Their postures and expressions told him that quite clearly.

“…and why are you not dead? I saw you stab each other!”

“No we didn’t, we stopped...” Her words were said in a strange manner, and he could how the two fighters shared confused glances. He realized that they probably would have stabbed each other if not for him. Now it seemed as if they wondered why his words had stopped them from finalizing their attempts. At least he wasn't the only strange one here...

“What did the Magisters want with you?” Villain asked, apparently determined to act as though nothing had happened. Vito was glad for the question. Glad that he could say something normal.

“They wanted to know who I was, where I came from and why I wasn’t registered. However, they were more concerned with my eye color. They wanted to know why they are white. Then they accused me of witch craft. Standard procedure I guess...”

“You’re not registered? ...but you’re a human?” the woman asked, failing to hide her reaction this time. She was surprised, which perhaps wasn’t so strange. Every Human was supposed to have papers. What made her reaction interesting, was that his lack of papers apparently surprised her more than his white eyes...which was a welcome break from the usual reaction he received.

“I’ve grown up with Nei'gaians," he answered and he saw her take a closer look at him, as if he had become someone else, someone to look into a little deeper, as if she was trying to solve the puzzle he was presenting her.

“Where is Annie?” he continued, not really as comfortable with the subject as he thought he was, at least not under the woman's inspection.

“I’ll take you to her, then the two of us should be on our way if you want to introduce me to that Gaian. I don’t have any more time to waste!" Villain spat out impatiently. As an afterthought he added, "The Magisters won't forget this, and don’t let this brittle, momentary peace in these lands lure you into thinking that men are not beasts: you will be killed on sight.”

Villain’s words were said as if there was no choice but to follow his orders. Vito was used to that, more than used to it, which meant that it didn’t work on him. He knew that he still had some leverage, and he wouldn’t leave Annie unless she wanted to continue on her own. He wasn’t ready to see her off just yet...

“You need to clean your wounds," the woman said, looking sternly at Villain. The Nyx responded with a cold stare.

“So do you!” Villain said with a voice that made Vito shudder some more. For a second he considered if this was such a good idea, after all. The Nyx was deadly, and here he was, bringing him along for a journey home. Perhaps he should question his own sanity a little more often, clearly something was off with him right now. However, he couldn't back down now. Not when things seemed to fall into place so nicely. Who knew, this might be a chance meeting, or else the Creator brought them together for a reason. It was more comfortable to believe in the latter, and definitely more exciting.

It was a short walk to the corner where Annie was sitting, half hidden behind a wagon. Her face broke up into a sweet smile as she saw him, and his heart seemed to skip a beat. She rose and limped towards them.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her, but she shook her head, as if it wasn’t worth noting. “Are you sure that you’re okay?” he insisted, but she just continued to smile.

“We’re leaving,” Villain growled, stealing their attention.

“Good, I don’t want to stay here!” Annie replied. At her words, Vito lost that uneasy feeling that had begun to fester in his stomach. She would come with them.

“I’m coming with you too, I still need to kill you...after I have cleaned your wounds, wouldn’t want you to be hindered,” the woman said while shooting Villain a mocking grin.

Well then...

-----

"We should discuss this."

Qumo sat up straighter in his seat, dropping his goose pen on the table.

"Yes" he answered, looking straight into Leiwen’s eyes.

"I don’t believe that Scia is attacking just because they’re out of food."

"I was afraid you would say that,” he replied. “So, what is your theory?"

Things were deteriorating rapidly outside of their forests. Easthold had been attacked by Scia. In one way it wasn’t so strange: the country was straining under the pressure of a desiccating drought that had held it captive for the last three years. It was yet another sign that their world was crumbling. Droughts in Scia, rumors of terrible fires in Westerland, and storm upon storm raged across the Southern Lands. The only part of the world that seemed to have been spared so far was Easthold. The only thing missing now is the earthquakes, he thought. However, there seemed to be something beyond that, something more that stirred the world.

“I don’t know, but something is definitely wrong. There is less desperation and more structure in their attacks than we presumed. It’s something in their eyes. I can’t explain it.” Leiwen seemed to know that the answer wasn’t clear enough, but he understood her. Moreover, he trusted her. If she said something was wrong, then he believed her. The question was how to proceed. He didn’t want to send out another group, waiting for their return, only to find that they might not come back.

“What news have you from Westerland?” he asked instead, knowing that she was one of the few with some connections within the closed country.

“King Odeon relies more and more on this preacher we began to receive reports about a while ago. She seems to gain more power at a steady rate.”

“Yes, I’ve heard her name mentioned, Mischka. She seems hard to predict, the decisions she has influenced so far have lacked consistency in strategy.” Leiwen nodded.

The preacher worried him. Mischka was the unknown in the equation, and such things would become increasingly important in war-times.

“You’re right, she seems very unstable. There are no consistent narrations of her character. We would do well to watch her,” Leiwen replied. Qumo saw her conviction and felt it too. Anything could happen in times like these.

They were interrupted as one of his other advisers approached, worry written across his face. “Your ward is returning in the company of a Nyx'gaian and two humans. We have stopped them at the outer perimeter.”

“Vito? Is he back already?”

Something stirred in his body, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was excitement, and something resembling a feeling he thought he had lost once and for all: hope.

-----

Milo took deep breaths, inhaling the scents of forest around him, catching the characteristic, intoxicating fragrances that reminded him of home. He had been here before, he knew where the settlement was located, but there was nothing to gain by entering alone. If they were allowed to continue into the settlement he wouldn’t be an intruder but a guest, which would make his mission far easier to complete.

“I believe we will have to continue our interactions after this visit Vigilante, you wouldn’t want to enter here, I can assure you,” he said, grinning at her. Finally he had the possibility to get rid of her annoying presence. She wouldn’t be able to enter without the Gaians’ consent, and she had no reason to be admitted. He was sure that Vito wouldn’t vouch for her character.

“Oh, I don’t believe that’s up to you Milo,” Vigilante snapped.

“Milo?” Vito said in a surprised tone; his name no longer a secret.

“Yes, however, I wouldn’t use it if I were you. Might get you killed,” he replied. Vito only smiled sheepishly in response, unaware of the truth held in those words.

Milo heard other Gaians approach, he glanced at Vigilante to see if she could pick it up. She didn’t, which made him grin again, she had nothing on him.

It didn’t take long before the five Gaians arrived. They were Nei'gaians, or N'aians as they were usually called, tinged in different hues of green. He had always found them fascinating, so alike himself, yet so different. They preferred the forest, he preferred the night.

“Vito, you’re back faster than I could have hoped for,” the ancient N'aian said, smiling warmly at the young man. Milo couldn’t even guess his age, he had never seen anyone so old. He gasped as he realized who this was: Qimodon, a living legend among the Gaians. He couldn’t help but stare in wonder. Few things could amaze him, but this did.

“Greetings strangers, Welcome to Southwood. I am Qumo.”

Milo stared into nothing, struggling to contain himself. His mind turned into a violent conflict, emotions and cold determination battling fiercely. He strained to keep it to himself, refusing to let it show. Outside of his confusion, voices were buzzing, talking; but his mind wasn’t there, he didn’t listen. In the next moment they were moving, and he looked angrily at Vigilante.

“How?” he said, unable to hold it back...

“Qumo thought she should come. I tried to dissuade him, but it didn’t matter,” Vito said, looking a bit disconcerted. However, within seconds he seemed to have let it go, trusting Qumo’s intentions.

Milo snapped his jaw together, biting down hard to avoid the words that wanted to crawl out. This was not supposed to happen.

They entered the settlement from the west, and he knew that it should amaze him as it always did, but this time he had no capacity to spare. His mind was still raging. To avoiding conversation he fell back, walking alone behind the others. He didn't stay alone for long. Vigilante joined him and he hated it. Hated her. Hated how he couldn’t think when she was near him; and now, when he couldn’t think to begin with.

“He’s your target, isn’t he?”

He met her eyes, and was startled to find something other than mirth or laughter. She looked solemn, almost compassionate.

“I can also tell that you’re not so happy about it. You didn’t know who you were targeting, did you?” she continued. “Even I have heard of him, never thought I would meet him though.”

Her eyes trailed away, seeking the contours of the greying N'aian. Then she looked back at him, waiting for some kind of reply. He had none to give.

“I’m sorry for you,” she said, and then she left him alone. He wondered a little over this new side of her that she showed, but then his mind was flooded with darker thoughts once more.

-----

Vito was strangely glad to be home. He had thought that his quest would quench the boredom he felt while he was locked up here in the forest, and it had; but his brief journey had also reminded him of how different he was. He didn’t belong. He didn’t belong here either, but this was known: this was home. Qumo was home.

He looked at his tutor and smiled as relief slowly poured over and through him. He didn’t have to face this alone, he could share, and he would. There was no time to lose as he had to explain things before he introduced Milo. Unfortunately there wouldn't be any good opportunities for conversation. They were on their way to the reception hall, where guests generally were introduced to the N'aian settlement, and they weren’t alone. However, he needed to try.

“Qumo, I need to speak with you.”

His tutor turned towards him, and paused to have a look at him before he said, “It would be very rude to abandon our guests, but you know that, so I imagine that your need is immediate.”

“Leiwen, would you please see to that our guests are provided with refreshments. We will be back shortly.”

The N'aian nodded in response and begged their three guests to follow.

Vito followed Qumo to a solitary spot under a lush tree and sat down. He was bursting to tell his old friend about everything, but didn’t know where to start. In fact, he found himself utterly unable to form a first sentence; fortunately he was spared.

“It has been many years since we have had so many new guests at one single moment. Do tell me how this happened,” Qumo said with a smile that told him not to rush. They had time.

Thankfully, his tongue un-wound in time to answer. “I saw something...a vision perhaps. I'm not sure what it was to be honest. However, as I saw it I was sure of what to do, even convinced of it. That visions led me to a place that I have seen in my dreams many times over the years: a pond in the middle of a circular clearing, hidden within the Southern Hills. A pitch black pond.”

He stopped, stunned by Qumo's reaction.

“You have seen the Willow’s Pond?” Qumo looked shocked and amazed in equal measures.

“You know of it?”

“It is where the Willow Scrolls were written according to the author. No one has claimed to have seen it ever since.”

Now it was Vito's turn to be shocked, but not so much amazed as afraid. What did it all mean? He knew very well what the Willow Scrolls treated. He hadn’t studied them to the same extent as some of the other students, but he knew enough. They had been written just after the last fall of Io, relating his life at that time, his deeds, but also his failures. A set of scrolls such as these had been written following each of his deaths, but the others always mentioned in what kind of manner he would be returning. They were prophecies just as much as memoirs. However, there were none of those prophecies noted down in the Willow Scrolls. Hence the doubts concerning if Io would ever return again.

“Oh,” was the only word he could think of to say.

“Tell me of the vision.”

Vito started to recite what he had seen, and the events that had led up to where they were sitting now. He told his story of Annie, of Milo and of Vigilante while Qumo listened attentively. When he reached the end, reciting their journey, Qumo looked a bit distracted.

“What are you thinking?” he asked his tutor.

“Your vision from Willow's pond showed you a Nyx'gaian, and you thought that it had shown you this particular one?”

“Yes, I remember being certain of it, but that feeling didn’t remain. Now all that lingers, is that I wanted to take him to you.”

“I’m glad you did, and I’m very glad that he chose to follow you. We should go and join the others," Qumo said and rose, but Vito wasn’t finished. He still wasn't ready to leave, not ready to be released into this whirlwind of confusion once more.

“What about my visions, what are they?”

Qumo looked at him with compassion pouring out from his wrinkled face.

“I don’t know Vito, you may have a great part to play in this...but first I would like to meet this silent Nyx that you brought. I think I might come to understand more than I am ready for.”

Vito had no idea of what Qumo was talking about. The confusion he had hoped to stave off became increasingly prominent in his mind. It was useless, he stopped trying to get on the right side of things. He would just follow where this led.

-----

Qumo had not felt like this in decades. The anticipation was overwhelming, he didn’t dare to hope, but he couldn’t keep it away, regardless of how hard he tried. He trusted Vito, and he knew the boy had never heard of Willow’s pond; the implications were tremendous.

He looked at the Nyx from a distance. There was nothing special about him. Yes, he was tall, but other than that... He released his other sense as he closed in on the group, scanning for something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He stopped dead in his tracks and saw the others turn their heads towards him.

He stared into the Nyx's eyes, recognizing a long lost friend.

“Io”

His voice was barely audible, but the Nyx heard it, heard the name and fled...