The doubts seeping into Ayax’s mind burned so keenly she didn’t realize what had happened to the path until it just ended.

There had been a path, but it’d plummeted into the abyss. A rock slide or maybe a local earthquake had shorn the rock ledge that formed the goat trail. There was just a slide going right down.

Desperately, Ayax looked around, trying to find another route. There wasn’t any way across the slope. Looking up, she swallowed.

She could try to climb directly up the slope. She could see handholds she could latch on. And now that she was looking up, she realized she didn’t need to climb all the way. She just needed to climb up to the next part of the path.

Not too far above that was the rock face’s ledge and safety. There she could find help for Elizabeth.

But as Ayax set herself against the face and pulled herself up, her legs shuddered. Her feet scrabbled against the rock. She slipped, knees slamming against the rock. She managed to hold on, but it was all she could do to lean against the slope, her hands clenched in fists.

She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t how to save Elizabeth. She wasn’t even sure if saving her was the right thing to do. She was stuck on the slope, struggling to find a way to go up.

What to do? What could she do?

There was no answer. Not from her unconscious girlfriend, not from the howling wind and not from any god.

There was just herself, on the slope, with a decision to make.

Blinking back tears or sweat, she wasn’t sure what, Ayax began to climb.

Her feet slipping, she pulled herself up again and again. Every pull, every step felt like her last. Yet, she continued to climb.

Her hands ached. They bled. Ayax ignored them. She couldn’t stop to fix them. If she did, she’d stop forever.

All the while she continued to mull on Elizabeth.

Maybe Elizabeth would regret staying with her in the future. Ayax knew that nothing would stop Elizabeth from missing her family. But Ayax knew she had to live with that. Whether she managed to save her girlfriend or not, she knew she was going to accept whatever decision Elizabeth would make.

For Ayax loved Elizabeth. She loved her smile. She loved her optimism. She loved the Korean girl’s sly humor and how honest and passionate she could be. Even when pale and clammy, like she was now, Ayax still thought her girlfriend was beautiful.

Maybe that was the power that led Ayax to step forward. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she stepped over the cliff, to see a small village ahead of her, and a stunned sentry staring at her.

“Help, please,” Ayax gasped, before collapsing onto the ground.

----------------------------------------

When Elizabeth woke, she immediately realized she wasn’t on her horse. She wasn’t even outside. Kicking off the bedsheets that covered her, she pulled herself up and instantly regretted it as pain shot through her back and chest.

There was no guard, but that didn’t mean she was being captured. As she looked around, she saw Ayax laying in a bed next to hers. Her hands were bandaged. Elizabeth looked down at herself, she was also sporting bandages around her torso and on her head. Strangely enough, she was also wearing a cap that had been tightened around her head with a ribbon.

The door swung open and Igraine strode in. Somehow the heavily pregnant woman was still able to walk quite briskly to Elizabeth’s bedside.

“Elizabeth, you’re lucky I was here with the rangers. We nearly lost you and Ayax,” she said.

“Lost me? Wait, lost Ayax? What happened?” Elizabeth shook her head and winced at the pain on her head. “Where am I?”

Igraine sat down on the bed. “Ah, you just woke up. Well…you’re in Atra’s Rest.”

“Atra’s Rest? When did we…wait.” It came flooding back to Elizabeth. “I got hit on the head and then by a lance, but why…why did I lose consciousness? And why do I remember…remember Ayax carrying me?”

“So you do remember that,” Igraine murmured. “Your armor held, but both blows caused internal bleeding. The blow to your head in particular caused some bleeding into your brain. We had to cut it open to relieve the pressure.”

Elizabeth, eyes wide, reached for her head, only for her mentor to grab her hand.

“Don’t! We haven’t regrown that part of the skull. We can do that with magic, but not if you stick a finger into there.”

“How…” Elizabeth smiled and sighed, turning to her sleeping girlfriend. “Ayax must have saved me.”

“She did more than that.”

Something about Igraine’s tone of voice wiped the smile from Elizabeth’s face.

“Master Igraine? What…what did she do?” Elizabeth whispered.

The pregnant ranger met her student’s eye. “Ayax carried you up the slope to Atra’s Rest. You know, the one that I trained you on.”

The pain vanished, and Elizabeth felt her blood run cold. “She did what?”

“They had cavalry on the roads and you were unconscious. Ayax carried you up the slope to Atra’s Rest and she did it in four hours. It’s how we were able to stop the bleeding before it did any more damage.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No. No. She didn’t. She couldn’t have.”

“She did, Liz.”

“My best time was three hours and I’m an Otherworlder! She couldn’t have done it. Not while carrying me. She…” Elizabeth practically stumbled out of her bed and ran to Ayax’s side. Only now did she realize how sickly was the troll’s palour. Elizabeth ripped the blanket off to find her love’s legs bandaged from knee up. Her hands had so many bandages that they resembled cooking gloves.

“Oh my God,” Elizabeth whispered.

Igraine sighed. “She’ll be alright. She’s just exhausted. Don’t you worry.”

“She did it for me when I can’t even die!” Elizabeth croaked.

“Yeah kid, because she loves you.” Igraine squeezed Elizabeth’s shoulder.

Elizabeth nodded, thinking to Ayax’s fury and rage at Lehrbeck. “What did I even do to deserve this?”

Igraine rubbed her belly. “Love’s not about deserving, Elizabeth. And before you ask, yes it can be frightening.”

Having long since given up wondering how Igraine could read her mind, Elizabeth gently caressed Ayax’s cheek.

“It’s terrifying. I mean, I’m not worried about my safety, but I can’t believe she did this for me. Just so…so that I would have a choice about whether to stay or not. Sorry, I’m not sure if you get it,” Elizabeth whispered.

“No, I get it. You know Edana scares me sometimes, right?”

“She what?”

“She’s the Firehand, one of the most powerful mages on the continent. Of course her raw power is a little intimidating.” Igraine giggled and crossed her arms. “It’s only natural that such intense emotions are scary. I say though that what is most important is what you feel in their arms.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”

The ranger smiled whimsically. “I never told anybody this, but after she panicked over Frances getting kidnapped at Conthwaite, she then freaked out when she found out that I nearly died at Freeburg. When I finally told her she didn’t let go of me for an hour and then damn near didn’t let me out of her sight for a month. I mean, I whine about it, but I think that’s when I knew I wanted her back in my life for good.”

“Oh, were you sleeping with one another then?” Elizabeth asked.

“How did—”

“At the time, Frances and I compared notes and realized that you two were in a rather strange mood. I didn’t realize why until more recently,” said Elizabeth in an airy tone.

Igraine smirked at her student. “Hmph. She is a catch that Ayax. Keep her close, Liz.” She patted the Otherworlder’s shoulder. “I’ll have some food sent for you both.”

“Thank you, Master,” said Elizabeth.

Igraine waved her hand and walked out of the door, closing it behind her.

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Ayax’s eyes fluttered open to find herself on a bed. Before she could collect herself, warm arms pulled her upright into a hug.

“Hey Liz,” Ayax murmured.

Elizabeth pressed her lips against Ayax in a desperate kiss, making the troll’s eyes widen.

“Ayax, I…I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” said Ayax. Overwhelming relief flooded through her, and she felt her eyes moisten as the realisation she’d saved her love hit home. I’m just glad you’re here.”

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A watery giggle escaped Elizabeth’s lips. “You nearly killed yourself for me. I…I want to tell you not to do that again, but I know you would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Ayax grabbed onto Elizabeth, wincing at her damaged hands. “I almost stopped. I nearly gave up. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?”

“Yes. Liz, I know you said you wanted to stay. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if…if you changed your mind in the future.” Ayax pushed forward, worried that Elizabeth would speak up if she stopped. “I decided I wouldn’t mind. Even if you ended up hating me for saving you, I just wanted it to be your decision.”

Elizabeth said nothing at first. Then, her voice choked with emotion, she croaked out, “Oh Ayax, Mataia. You silly troll. I would never hate you for that.”

“But your family—”

“I love them, and to be honest, I still am not sure if I’m doing the right thing staying here, but even if I end up regretting it, that would be my fault, not yours.” Elizabeth touched Ayax’s cheek, drawing her hand down her love’s jawline to her chin. “You have nothing to be worried about. And…I have to say sorry too.”

Ayax frowned. “For what?”

Elizabeth sighed, “After that fight, I said we had to talk about what you did to Leila. Now that I’ve seen what you did for me, how much you love me, I can’t help but understand where your heart was. If it were you being struck, I don’t think I could have held myself back either.”

Ayax smiled and kissed Elizabeth on the cheek. But as she pulled away, giggling, her expression faded into a quiet frown.

“Ayax?”

“Liz, I…thank you, but I think you might be right.” The troll’s eyes narrowed. “I just realised that…I don’t really remember what happened when I started hitting Leila.”

“What do you mean by that?” Elizabeth asked, adjusting her position so she was now sat next to the troll.

Ayax leaned against her girlfriend. “I remember it happened. I remember that I did this, but now that you mention it, my anger…it was so intense it feels more like a dream. I took a direct hit from a magic bolt and I didn’t even feel the pain. I…I probably need to talk to Renia about how to manage that anger.”

Elizabeth nodded. “That’s a good idea. And, as to why you didn’t feel the magic bolt, you were shielding yourself. I saw a blue glow surrounding your entire body. The glowing eyes were kind of strange, though.”

“Glowing eyes?”

“Yeah, your eyes were glowing black,” said Elizabeth. She blinked as Ayax stared at her. “Is that not a thing mages do?”

“No. I’ve seen mages make the air around them crackle with magic. That’s something Frances does, but I’ve never heard of a mage’s eyes just randomly glowing.” Ayax swallowed. “Liz…I think we need to talk to Edana. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.”

“And we will, but right now, just rest. I’m not going to leave you,” said Elizabeth. She kissed Ayax again and her troll, managing a small smile, returned it to her cheek.

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Frances jogged after Timur, slightly out of breath and more than a little astounded. Her boyfriend was striding down the street, yet as his long legs carried him down the paved roads, his head seemed like it was on a swivel. Dark eyes took in a house, before switching and jumping to another. As they continued, they passed some other refugees who were examining the old, sometimes ruined houses in Kallistos far more slowly.

“Timur, our choice for our home doesn’t have to be permanent, Timur,” said Frances as she jogged after Timur. Her boyfriend was just walking, but his pae meant that she needed to run to keep up.

That led her to run facefirst into his chest when he suddenly turned around.

“Timur,” Frances whined as she staggered back.

“Sorry! Sorry!” The prince held onto Frances’s arms, helping her to regain her balance. “But we can’t just choose randomly. If we move in and we find that we didn’t like the house, we will have to move out again and that would be annoying. Or what if we move in, find we really like that house and then we don’t want to move, but we need to fix something major?”

Blinking at the torrent of words, Frances put her hands on Timur’s shoulders and thought about his words. Once she actually managed to process them, she realized her boyfriend’s thoughts made a lot of sense.

“Sorry, you’re right, Timur. We should take our time.” Frances let him go, smiling warmly. “Let’s take a look at that one,” she said, pointing at a two-story stone house to their right.

“Oh not that one.” Timur gestured at the low, and very dusty stone wall in front of the house. “Look at the front yard. There’s no space and it’s all exposed to the main street. All of these houses on this street are like that and they won’t do. Besides,” the prince turned to the crevasse in Athelda-oun and narrowed his eyes. He pointed one finger there and, straightening his arms, pointed his other arm to the house. “Yeah, no, the angle of the light will cast some really uncomfortable shadows in the house.”

Frances stared at Timur, “How did you figure that out?”

“Um, I lived in a lot of houses. Kept moving between different rooms in the palace and between different manor houses. And well, you know I travelled a lot,” said Timur, his tail flicking awkwardly from side to side. “I mean, if you like this house Frances—”

Frances waved her hands and shook her head. “No. No. I’m just really impressed. I didn’t even think about what you mentioned. I just…you remember I only have a few things I don’t want in a house and a few things that would be nice to have.”

Her prince bobbed his head. “I remember. You said you don’t want a walk-in closet and that you wanted a full kitchen and pantry. There was also something else.”

“I think I wanted the house to be kind of homey, like the cottage I lived in with my mother when I first arrived in Durannon,” said Frances. She smiled. “Thanks for remembering Timur.”

“Yes. Hmm, we’ll have to head toward the edge of the cavern wall,” said Timur, gently turning Frances toward the north-eastern section of the city’s limits.

Although she started walking in that direction, Frances glanced at Timur. “Why there, though? Why not at the north-western and south-eastern points? Wouldn’t those be more isolated and quieter?”

“Yes, but they’re the farthest from the market square that we’re setting up our initial base at. The north-eastern section of the city is also where the largest and most luxurious houses were historically,” said Timur.

Having long ago lost count of the times she’d been glad her boyfriend was with her, Frances gently nudged Timur and laced her fingers with his.

“Then lead on, my prince,” she said.

Timur, smiling proudly, did just that, practically skipping to the northeastern part of the city. That being said, Frances didn’t miss how he slowed down so she wasn’t being dragged along.

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The northeastern part of the city did indeed have some of the best homes and to Frances and Timur’s surprise, quite a number of these homes had already been taken by refugees and their families. Most of this was due to proximity. This area of the city was quite close to “Sanctuary Square” where the refugee convoy had arrived after their long journey. That meant that as Frances and Timur wandered through this part of Altheda-oun, they often found themselves waving and saying hi to many new occupants and families. What hadn’t been occupied was often quite badly damaged.

Unlike some Erisdalian houses, the houses in Athelda-oun were often built with an inner courtyard. Some of these yards were so large that they even had gardens that were either withered and dust from lack of care, or in the odd case, had completely filled the courtyard space with vegetation.

There were still plenty of houses to choose, but what houses they did find weren’t quite perfect. Timur had many requirements. Most of them were quite reasonable in Frances’s eyes, but there were a few that seemed purely based on his personal preference.

One requirement she did understand was his insistence on making sure that the bedroom to their prospective house did not face the crevasse in Athelda-oun’s ceiling. He explained this by pointing out that sunrise or sunset would cause the temperature of the bedroom to vary significantly.

The requirements she didn’t understand well…

“Timur, I do not meant to be rude, but do you even cook?” Frances asked.

Timur looked up from the kitchen he was examining, opened his mouth and closed it, before shaking his head.

“Then let me decide what the kitchen needs as I believe I’ll be the one using it,” said Frances. She pointed at the decrepit and damaged fireplace. “A good kitchen doesn’t need a large fireplace. We can probably get a more efficient stove as long as there is space for a stove and a chimney.”

“Oh. That’s a good point.” His half-limp tail flicked side to side. “That…being said, I don’t quite like this house. It’s probably the best of the ones we found, but I don’t like the layout.”

“I agree. There’s no room to eat near the kitchen. Perhaps they were using slaves to move the food from the kitchen to the dining room?” Frances asked as she followed Timur out of their latest prospect.

“Most likely,” said Timur. He scratched his head. “Oh dear, the afternoon is nearly over.”

Frances looked up at the crevasse and sighed. The light shining through was starting to dim.

As her vision refocused, she blinked and realised she was looking past a ruined tower. Following the tower, her eyes widened as she took in broken walls that rose in front of her.

“Timur, what’s that building?”

She could hear Timur mumble a “Woah,” before he said, “That must be main palace complex. The one in Athelda was called The Gong-An.”

“How did I miss—oh, nevermind,” muttered Frances. For while the Gong-An was a huge palace complex, much of it was rubble. Unlike the rest of the city, this was not the half-collapsed or “wall blasted in” kind of collapse. Most of what had been a sprawling palace complex next to the lake was now piles of broken stone and rotten wood. The only buildings left was the lone half-snapped off tower that had drawn Frances’s attention, and what had been a large domed building. This building was half-shorn, as if someone had cut it in two.

“I don’t remember exactly what the books say about what the rebels did to the palace complex, but well, many of King Alan and his rebels were slaves here. They didn’t have any good memories about this place.” Timur sighed. “I do wish they didn’t destroy the library, though.”

Frances nodded. “Do you know what that building is, Timur?”

The prince narrowed his eyes. “The tower there is one of the four watchtowers that marked the corner of the complex, but I don’t recall what the domed building is. Do you want to take a look?”

Frances thought about the idea for a moment. “Sure. It’ll be a nice break from house hunting.”

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Some time after picking over the carpet of broken stones, tile and smashed pottery, Timur and Frances looked up at the open side of the ruin.

From where they stood, they could see that the domed building had been a dining hall of some kind, with the wings attached to the domed part being an old kitchen or food storage facilities. Even now, Frances could see the remnants of stone fireplaces and smashed clay plates and dishes. They daren’t go deeper in, because the building looked horribly unstable. Even then, they stood, watching the cold stone ruin.

“That’s an odd sight,” said Timur.

“Yeah.” Frances pursed her lips. “I—I don’t know what I feel about this. I mean, it’s a ruined building.”

Her prince smiled. “But?”

Frances took a deep breath of the earthy air, and shrugged. “I can almost imagine it. The city being alive, bustling, and for some reason, I wish I could see it, without the slavery of course.”

“I know what you mean,” said Timur. “There’s a power and importance to this place, right? Even if it’s been abandoned.”

“It’s almost overwhelming, but I don’t mind it. It’s…it’s one reason why I wouldn’t mind living here, Timur.” Frances waved her hand. “Not here here. I don’t really want to live where a tyrant had their palace of slaves. I just like the idea of bringing this old city back to life.”

The trogre scratched his chin, picking a little at the stubble growing on his chin. “Like giving it a second chance?”

Frances nodded. “Exactly. It’s a nice thought.” Something shiny and round caught her eye and Frances bent down. It looked to be the edge of a purple plate caught underneath a coating of light gravel. “There’s just so much here that can be reused and made better. Like this plate here.” Grabbing onto the edge of the plate, Frances gave a tug and pulled it out from under the gravel. Blowing on it, she gave it a dusting with her sleeve and showed Timur. “Look, perfect for serving dinner on.”

Timur grinned, but as she passed the purple plate to him, his grin changed. The edges of his lips first quirked up as if he was just starting to be confused, before they slowly fell. His jaw dropped open and his eyes widened.

“Frances that isn’t glass.”

Frances frowned. “It isn’t?” She touched the plate with the back of her hand. It wasn’t cool to the touch. Rather, it had an oddly plasticky sensation. “Oh, was this some kind of material the Goblin Empire made?”

Timur, his six-fingered hands shaking, gently took the plate and flipped it over so Frances could see the outside. “Frances, this is dragon scale.”

“The f—wait, what?”

“Dragon scale. What the hell is a dragon scale doing so far south?”

“So far south?”

“I don’t know why, but dragons prefer the cold. I think it helps them regulate their internal temperature? I’m not sure how a dragon scale got so far south in the Goblin Empire,” Timur muttered.

Frances crossed her arms. “Maybe they traded the scale? I mean, do dragons shed their scales?”

“Hmm, they do actually. I suppose that is possible. And the material lasts for quite a long time. It’s just not a very good material for armor.” As an explanation, Timur gritted his teeth and flexed the scale over his knee. The scale bent and sprang back into place. “It’s so tough you can’t really fit it, but it’s also not very flexible. It’s also really hard to get as the dragons are well, dragons.”

“Hmm, well we can still eat on it,” said Frances, tucking the scale into one of her pouches.

Timur laughed. “Speaking of dinner, let’s try a few more houses.”