The horn sounded out just as the sun came up, but that wasn't what woke Nael Manron up -- there was no way it could have, as he had never been asleep.

As he sat on the side of his bed, staring intently at the cloth wall of his new tent, he fidgeted with a pebble held between his finger and thumb, as though he could crush it if he just applied enough pressure. No doubt that red woman could have done so -- when wearing that Guardian Entity, her strength had been immense. She had been capable.

That was part of what had kept Nael awake.

One by one, the Regulators that had gone to pursue the crimson assassin had returned in shame -- their Guardian Entities either unable to fight or unable to track their prey any further. Even the greatest trackers among them had admitted defeat.

And yet Grena had not returned. He'd asked after her, dreading the bloodstained news he might receive, but none of the returning Regulators had so much as seen her during the chase. It was as if she'd vanished off the face of the world.

The pebble slipped from between Nael's fingers -- the momentary tremor of exhaustion -- and dropped to the floor. Stimulus lost, his hands moved instead to knit together on his lap. Sweat seeped down from the back of his neck.

Nael worked out here in the countryside, but he'd been born and raised within Coren itself, in one of the many orphanages that the Regulators sponsored. Even with all the benevolence in the world, it wasn't easy to grow up in such an environment -- but fortunately for him, he hadn't been alone.

Grena had been there to protect him. He'd been there to protect Grena. That was the way their relationship functioned.

Right now, though, it felt as if he was suddenly more alone than he'd ever been in his life. When was the last time he'd been unaware of Grena's location? What she was doing? If she was safe? Had that ever happened? He couldn't help but feel as if the ground had disappeared from under his feet.

The front flap to the tent was suddenly lifted open and one of his subordinates peered on, face grim. Something else had happened, then.

Probably for the best -- a malaise like this couldn't be allowed to fester. Grena was capable, too. She'd find her way home.

"Sir," the messenger said, his deep voice as grim as his gaze. "The Prester is here. He wishes to speak with you."

Such grimness was fitting, then.

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Prester Garth let his hand brush through the long grass as he walked along the outskirts of the camp, Nael following by his side.

"I was surprised to hear you hadn't cornered the rebels yet," Garth said lightly, as if discussing the weather. "For one of your abilities, I would have thought it to be child's play."

Nael closed his eyes, sucked in a deep breath. "My most sincere apologies, sir. There were… unexpected complications. An attack upon the camp, and an assassination attempt upon myself. Dealing with the damage caused has delayed our pursuit -- but only somewhat. We will have finished this before long."

Logically, he should have been in no danger -- Prester Garth was a servant of the gods and a paragon of their virtues. There was no Regulator who could doubt that. And yet, when in Garth's presence, one felt as if they were standing on the edge of a knife, ready to fall one way or the other depending on gravity's whim.

Nael couldn't help but feel a certain anxiety in his throat, then, as he talked to his superior. Prester Garth was a great man, but he was by no means a safe one.

Garth smiled. "I like you, Manron. I make no secret of that. You apologize for your mistakes and promise reimbursement in the same breath. That's how a man should be."

"Thank you, sir," Nael nodded. "I appreciate your kindness."

As Garth walked, he clasped his hands behind his back, his wild reachers casting a long shadow behind him. "The future is not set, after all -- any predictions we make are helpless when chaos is involved, and these interlopers are nothing if not chaotic."

Nael gulped. "You refer to the inhuman ones."

"That I do."

"Then," Nael glanced behind the Prester, to the cloaked child that followed in his shadow. "Should we really be…?"

Garth glanced down at him for a moment, brow furrowed, before seemingly realizing what he was talking about. "But of course. It is important that the Good Lady learns of the dangers that threaten this world -- otherwise, how is she to take up the fight when she is grown?"

Nael bit his lip, looking around -- as if that red blur would appear again at any moment. "Still… with the enemy so close, is it safe for her Ladyship to be here?"

"Please don't worry, sir," the Good Lady spoke up for the first time, her voice light and breathy. "I'll be perfectly fine. I promise!'

"I'm not certain that's something that can be decided so easily…" Nael said hesitantly.

Garth's meaty hand clapped lightly on Nael's shoulder as they came to a halt, having finally reached the line of the forest.

"You worry far too much, my boy," he said fondly. "Caution is good for a warrior, but too much of it is just unsightly. Learn to balance it with valour."

Nael nodded. "Of course, sir."

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"Her Ladyship is perfectly safe. Her Guardian Entity is with us, even now. Gashadokuro would never allow any harm to come to her."

Indeed, from what Nael had heard, her Ladyship's Guardian Entity was nothing to sneeze at -- the ultimate protector for the one who would inherit the burden of the world. The few attempted assassinations over the years had invariably ended with smears of red meat.

Still, what Garth had said wasn't quite true. Gashadokuro evidently wasn't always with her Ladyship -- from what Nael had been told, the Prester had dispatched the Guardian Entity after 'Dragan Hadrien' and the crimson killer when he'd first arrived. The sounds of its thunderous footsteps had shook for hours until it too had admitted defeat.

But such thoughts weren't the sort to be voiced -- they were the kind to be mulled over and sensibly filed away. Prester Garth hadn't reached his position through foolishness: if he took an action, it was a given that there was a good reason for it.

Nael's role was to execute commands, not question them -- and that role was one he would play to perfection, for the sake of the people.

He glanced away from the Good Lady --

-- and was met, inches from his face, with the bone-white mask of Aka Manto. Twin sapphire eyes glittered maliciously through the mask's slits, and as Nael took a reflexive step backwards, the Guardian Entity's hand whipped out and seized him by the wrist.

"Two paths lie before you," it hissed. "A path of blue, and a path of red."

The strength of the beings grip was immense -- Nael was forced to grit his teeth as he fell to his knees, the pain such that he thought his arm would be snapped right off. Aka Manto simply glared down at him, disdain still evident in every facet of its existence.

The Good Lady looked from Aka Manto to Nael, concern evident in her wide eyes. "Um," she mumbled, clearly overwhelmed, as her panicked gaze turned to Garth.

The Prester simply observed passively, hands clasped in front of him. It was as if he were listening to a mildly interesting sermon, rather than watching a subordinate be assaulted.

"To take the path of blue is --"

Garth raised a hand.

"Stop, Aka Manto," he said quietly. "I've changed my mind. I'm satisfied with this man's apology."

The Guardian Entity acquiesced immediately, releasing Nael's arm and vanishing in a spark of red-and-blue godsblood. A second later, the only remaining trace of its existence was the red mark on Nael's wrist.

Garth reached down and pulled Nael up by the arm, brushing off his shoulders as he was brought back up to a standing position. "My apologies," he said fondly. "You understand how these things are."

Nael wasn't sure he did understand. Quickly, he exchanged a glance with the Good Lady -- but both of them looked away just as quickly. Whatever had just happened, they did not wish to acknowledge it.

"Of course, sir," Nael bowed, trying his best to ignore the cold sweat on the back of his neck. "I appreciate your faith in me."

There was no doubt. Prester Garth was certainly not a safe man to be around.

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"There," Lily said, jabbing her finger onto the map. "Embrin Swamp."

The spot she'd indicated didn't look too enticing to Dragan. Obvious depictions of bogs and fog, along with a symbol that looked like some kind of open flame. The swamp went on for a short ways in such a fashion before terminating outside the mountain.

"That's our way out?" Dragan asked, doubt evident in his voice.

They'd assembled in Lily's planning station -- Dragan, Skipper, Bruno, Serena, Lily and Ted -- map spread out on the crate between them. They couldn't wait for Ruth any longer: the time had come to properly plan their escape.

Lily nodded. "They won't dare to follow us out through there -- and to catch us on the other end, they'd have to go all the way around. By the time we're out free, they'll only be halfway to the exit."

"Unless they're already expecting you to do this, of course," Skipper rubbed his chin. "They could have guys already stationed there, yeah?"

Lily shook her head. "They won't. I can guarantee that."

Bruno frowned. "How?"

"Because it'd be insane to go anywhere near that place. The gases swirling through there are explosive as explosive gets -- the tiniest spark can set them off."

Serena smiled. "Oh, okay. I understand!"

"No, no no no!" Dragan interrupted, waving a hand as what Lily had just said registered in his brain. "What did you just say?"

Lily at least had the good grace to shuffle uncomfortably.

"Well," she muttered. "If they came and attacked us, the sparks from their metal weapons would just blow everyone up, so they wouldn't wanna risk that. And they think we're smarter than that, too, so they wouldn't even consider us doing it."

"Good to know we're not smarter than that, then," Dragan sighed. He turned his gaze to Ted, standing behind Lily. "You can't talk her out of this?"

Ted drummed his sizable fingers over the table as he replied. "I agree with the plan, actually…"

Dragan raised an eyebrow. "You agree with the plan where we walk through an explosive swamp, hoping our enemies think we're not stupid enough to walk through an explosive swamp? It's insane!"

A serene smile spread across Ted's lips. "The first step to genius is insanity."

"There are steps after that, too. You have to be alive for those."

The sound of clapping rang through the room -- skin slapping against metal. The spotlight of attention shifted to Skipper.

"Friends, friends!" Skipper chuckled, raising his hands placatingly. "We're here blowing up at each other before we even get to the swamp! Dragan -- don't sweat it. I've got a plan of my own. It'll work out."

Dragan crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. If Skipper had some kind of plan, he could probably breathe easy, but still…

"Oh," Skipper's grin spread just a bit wider. "And I believe there was something you wanted to show everyone, yeah?"

Dragan nodded, a smirk already forming on his face. He'd almost forgotten in the haze of the argument.

Lily furrowed her brow in confusion as Dragan took a step atop a nearby rock, making himself tall. "What are you doing?"

"Elucidating," he replied smugly.

With his free hand, he fished his waterskin out of his satchel and dangled it between two fingers, like a pendulum. The sound of sloshing liquid echoed throughout the chamber.

"Who wants to know what a Guardian Entity really is?"