Half, not even half of them voted for Kiur’s proposal.

Looking at all their faces, Kiur couldn’t help but feel defeated.

He couldn’t convince the majority, and those who did vote for his idea were about to lower their hands again.

“Is it really necessary to continue this, priestess Tabira?” Shabra asked with a winning smirk on his lips. “We got the numbers; do we really need to continue for formality's sake?”

Tabira glanced over at Kiur, who had his hands over his head and eyes on the ground.

She wanted to help him, somehow.

He was supposed to be Enlil’s chosen vessel, not her. She was his substitute, and seeing him so disturbed hurt her just as much.

He had lost his post and his friends. Three years of his life were lost in seclusion to recover from whatever incident happened to him. There were countless rumours about what might have happened.

The worst one was that Kiur had lost his life in the desert.

“Still,” Tabira thought. She didn’t know much about him. They were never close, but she knew his conviction to help others was genuine. “Please, Enlil,” Tabira silently prayed, “if you truly believe in him, give him a miracle.”

“The voting will continue.” Tabira raised her right arm. “Those of you convinced to stay hidden, raise your arms for Shabra.”

The Escapees stirred.

“So many arms.” Tabira counted more than half, 80 per cent at the very least—with some of them having switched from Kiur’s to Shabra’s side.

“Well, it’s decided then.” Shabra stood up triumphantly. “What a waste for a good morning, which we could have spent on fortifying our defences, digging channels to tap underwater reservoirs and—”

“I MISS MY PARENTS!”

Somewhere amidst the group of people, a girl cried out. Tabira’s and Kiur’s eyes widened, and their brows wrinkled at who it was. “Ninda?”

Ninda became the centre of attention.

Her body shook, and she held on to the hem and tassels of her robe as she gritted her teeth and cried.

“My father does the best bread I have ever tasted,” she started with a shaking breath. “He is a hothead and stubborn man who constantly argues with me at the table, but he is sincere and fun; I love him.

“My other father is strict, but also very caring and patient. He takes me to the market a lot; I love him.” Ninda looked with her crying red eyes towards Kiur, then to Waldemar, standing right next to him. “They are my parents, and I miss them so much.”

The wind picked up, and those around Ninda gasped for air and had to step back.

“My little brother… he’s shy and doesn’t go out much, as he’s always sick. I’m his older sister, but he was taken from me. I haven’t seen him ever since. I miss my brother. I miss my family; I want to go back… I hate this place!”

Ninda’s cries brought the winds into a tumult.

They thrashed and whipped against the walls and whistled a shrill melody throughout the hideout and out of the basin.

Someone tried to approach Ninda but had to abandon the notion as the winds left a multitude of sharp cuts across their hand. No one was willing to make another stop. It was too dangerous.

All the while, Ninda’s winds and bawling grew only worse.

“By Enlil’s grace,” Waldemar held a hand before his face to shield himself from the winds. “She’s calling a storm. The priests and gods would be proud, but someone better stops her before it escalates!”

“Ninda,” with a heavy heart and footsteps, Tabira closed the distance to Ninda but was pushed back by the violent winds. “Ninda, please listen to me. Call back the winds. Control your magic!.”

Ninda didn’t listen as her crying and wind overshadowed Tabira’s plea.

“I need help.” Tabira prayed to Enlil, the God of Benevolence and Winds, to stop the wind, but it persisted. “Ninda, stop it!” Tabira lost her composure and startled Ninda.

Neither could believe what had just happened, but the winds kept raging.

“I’m sorry, Ninda. Please, listen to my voice and calm down before—”

“I don’t want to calm down! I want to go home!” Ninda’s shout pushed Tabira backwards.

In any other case, she would have stood grounded, but her centre of gravity was far too low than she was used to. Kiur caught her just in time before she fell.

“Are you alright?” he asked, but Tabira shoved him away.

“Do I look ok?” Tabira yelled and put a hand on her chest. “What am I supposed to do to save this child? ‘Enlil’s chosen next vassal’ be damned! What are we all supposed to do?

“Voting? For what? None of this matters! Enlil was wrong for choosing me over you, and he was wrong trusting you! None of us will make it out alive. NOT EVEN THIS CHILD I CARRY FOR HER PARENTS!”

Tabira clasped her hand over Kiur’s shawl; her metallic fingers clawed against his skin. “If only you have never abandoned your post, you… you….”

Infuriated, Tabira stared into Kiur’s eyes. She wanted to find some kind of fighting will in him.

Some sort of resentment.

However, that deep-rooted anger she saw in him days ago was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry,” Kiur put his hand on hers and slowly tried to remove them from him. His touch was icy, ghastly. His tired eyes stared down at the ground. “Let me try.”

Ninda was sitting on the ground, her hands buried in the sand, with tears still falling down her face.

“Ninda.” Kiur knelt before her, where it was still safe from the winds. “Can we talk?”

No response; she couldn’t meet his eyes between her sobbing.

Then Ninda heard the horrified gasps of everyone around her.

When she turned to face Kiur, she saw him reaching out to him with the winds cutting at his bronze skin.

When the skin broke all over his arm, Kiur didn’t seem to mind it, as if he couldn’t feel anything around the left part of his body.

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His icy hand touched hers, and the winds seemed to soften. Ninda looked up at Kiur. His face was tired, unbelievably so. His left eye lost all shine of life.

“I’m sorry,” said Kiur. “If only I were better at this, none of it would be necessary. I’m at fault for not being able to bring your home; I’m so sorry.”

Ninda’s lips quivered, and she stuttered. “W-why are you apologising? Stop apologising and bring me back to my parents! Bring…” Ninda tried to hold back a cry. “Bring back my little brother.”

Her hands held onto Kiur’s back. She snivelled and cried into his chest and beat with her first against it. Her head rested against it, and she couldn’t calm down as Kiur’s heartbeat was impossibly slow and hard to hear.

It unsettled her so much that the winds stopped.

“Ninda,” Tabira reached out with her hand for the girl. “Come, let’s get you inside to rest.”

“...” Ninda held on to Kiur’s shawl. She was reluctant to leave, fearing that if she left, his heart would stop beating. “I don’t want to… I want to go home.”

“Lad, would you mind bringing this child to bed?” Shabra sighed and put his hand on Kiur’s shoulder. “The vote is over. Get some rest. I’ll take over from here–”

“Excuse me?”

Shabra turned to see that some of the Escapees approached them. One of them had their hand raised.

“It’s not too late to change our vote, right?”

—✧—

51%.

Kiur couldn’t believe his eyes. It was barely a pass, but a pass after all.

So many had changed their vote at the very last second. Kiur had somehow done it, if only just and with Ninda’s help.

“I still can’t believe.”

“Better believe it then,” said Tabira. “Enlil had his hands in this; I’m sure of it.” She carried a large bag in her hands before Kiur and Ninda took it off of her hands. “I can carry it myself, you know?”

“No,” said practically everyone loading stuff onto the wagon. Tabira huffed and leaned against it, taking a break.

After the vote, they decided to depart with a small group to verify terms for cooperation.

This included Kiur and Tabira as the head representatives, healers, and able fighters.

And Ninda as well—the girl refused to stay away from Tabira and insisted on assisting her in every way possible—sometimes to her annoyance.

Tabira couldn’t help but scrutinise Ninda even more than usual. Particularly after her emotional outburst, paired with the sharp winds she had summoned.

An element that wasn’t common in their country and reserved almost exclusively for priests.

“Are you sure you want to come with us?” Kiur asked Tabira and covered a surface on the wagon with a blanket to sit down on. “We can’t be sure what the outcome will be.”

Tabira sniffed and rubbed her neck. “Let me guess; it’s because I am pregnant? And because Ninda refuses to stay? Kiur, I am the de facto leader here, so I ought to come with you all.”

Kiur stared at her pensively. He was too tired to show much reaction. “I am more afraid this might turn out to be a trap… and that I am leading us all there.”

“...” Tabira tapped her cheek nervously—she was just as afraid as Kiur was.

“Well, ain’t that too late, children?” Waldemar startled Tabira, who leaned against the cart and wiggled his eyebrows at her. “The vote was a success! Relax and get ready for departure. My father will protect this place while we are gone!”

Waldemar pinched Tabira’s side and laughed when she yelped and smacked his head with her fist. She watched with Kiur how Waldemar went to the other escapees to annoy them as they harnessed the horses.

“I am still confused.” Tabira rubbed her side where she got pinched. “Are they now related or not?”

Kiur shrugged, having no clue what the truth was either.

Waldemar was a wildcard and a Reiszer, but Kiur was thankful for his aid and how far he went for it—even if they wouldn’t have won without Ninda.

“All ready,” said Ninda, surprising the two from behind, “fluffed out all the pillows for Tabira as well.”

“Yes, it was all thanks to Ninda’s sudden display of emotions that won them over,” thought Tabira, looking up to the sky. “Or was there something else?”

“Thank you, Ninda.” Kiur patted Ninda’s back and pulled her closer. “If it wasn’t for you, then… “ he hesitated to say it out loud. “But you should stay at the camp where it’s–”

“No,” Ninda replied promptly. “I go wherever Tabira is, period.”

Kiur glanced over to Tabira—she simply shrugged and leaned back on her mount of pillows. “Don’t try; she won’t leave my side no matter what. Not even when I have to use the bathroom… I shouldn’t have said that, ergh.”

Tabira held her belly with a groan, and Kiur chuckled alongside Ninda. The girl was glad to feel Kiur radiating his usual warmth again and leaned back against him.

His beating heart calmed her down. It let her forget her constant worries about her little brother. She needed to be strong and find him once she survived the desert.

“Finally, home!” Waldemar laughed as they approached the Reiszer Camp with their little caravan.

Scouts intercepted them but didn’t say a word as they escorted them. Unease grew in both groups the closer they came to the camp.

The caravan stopped right before the entrance. Kiur and Waldemar dismounted first.

“Oh, small reminder.” Waldemar ushered for Kiur to come closer and whispered, “Let’s pretend I don’t speak your language. None of them shall know.”

Kiur furrowed his brow. Before he could say anything, though, an axe flew right over Waldemar’s head and embedded itself against the wagon, startling the horses.

The dwarf was less than surprised, but he hid behind Kiur,

“You damnable dwarf!” Ragnar brushed through his soldiers with ineffable anger. “I told you that you’re banned from returning. How dare you show your face back—”

Ragnar stopped himself on the side of Kiur and his people. It took him a hot moment to register the side before it clicked with him.

“You… you’ve returned.” Ragnar blinked and rushed to grab Kiur by the shoulders. “Does that mean–”

“We are here for the ‘supposed cooperation’,” interrupted Tabira, and climbed off of the wagon with Ninda’s help. Ragnar’s and everyone’s eyes widened at the sight of her state. “Let’s cut to the chase; where are the people that need help?”

Kiur acted as the official translator between Tabira and Ragnar.

Even though Waldemar was capable as well, he kept himself in the background and ensured there were no further troubles between the groups.

Not a behaviour Kiur expected, but there was no time to think about it; Kiur had to uphold his duty and translate.

“... how many were injured?”

“...secure protection of…”

“...save my daughter.”

Another headache rose in Kiur’s tired mind, but it kept him from spiralling entirely. He hardly slept and was running on fumes.

He was approaching his limit with dark figments dancing in his peripheral view—a bad sign of exhaustion. “Just a little more… a little… more.”

“You look like death,” Xander commented, and Kiur didn’t realise they had reached the new sick bay of the Reiszer—relocated conveniently underground in a cool cavern of the ruins. “When was the last time you slept?”

Kiur couldn’t suppress a smile—he missed Xander’s attitude. “You don’t look much better… were you busy?”

“HA!” Xander let out a short but sharp laugh. His navy-coloured and long, tangled hair fell all over his face. The dark bags underneath his eyes made him and Kiur match. “Been busy keeping this place up and running. My magic is thriving! Not comparable to this hell you call desert—which constantly drains my reserves. We were quite busy the past few days. You won’t believe it.”

“Speaking of,” Kiur put a hand on Xander’s shoulder and shuddered a breath, “what about Cylia? Where is she? Did you find her?”

Xander’s smile wavered, and he looked away. “I-I’m sorry… We will talk about it later, ok? We got things to do.”

“H-hey, wait–” Kiur grasped air as Xander left for the centre of attention where Ragnar, Tabira, and everyone else were.

Gritting his teeth, Kiur took a sharp breath and rejoined them. Xander, though, took his place next to Ragnar—so he had some distance between him and Kiur.

“How much longer do we need to wait?” Ragnar asked impatiently. “There’s not much time left; the poison is killing her! You need to do something, please.”

Tabira glanced at Ragnar from her spot in the water. She had one hand on Jorunn’s forehead and the other on her own forehead.

She prepared herself to despise the Reiszer leader. He was one of many Reiszer Leaders who displaced her and her people.

However, when she saw how desperate he was for the sake of his daughter, she couldn’t dehumanise him as a monster. After all, he was a father.

“Ninda, bring me two more Rufer and you, wizard.” Tabira pointed at Xander. “Keep the waters cool. You can do that, no?”

Tabira’s eyes turned blue and glowed in the familiar light Kiur knew all too well.

The mana in the earth vibrated and became visible to everyone around them. Lights broke, and winds danced. The earth beneath their feet was rustling and mending cracks.

Red lines formed on Tabira’s tanned skin, reaching up to her forehead. She was communing with Enlil, one of their patron gods. “As a priestess to the God of Benevolence. I will save your daughter and everyone else, so keep your promises, Ragnar Marcet.”

Another unfamiliar tone that shook everyone at their core accompanied Tabira’s voice. It was both soothing but also had a threat towards those who would break their kindness.

Gods could be merciful and gentle, but like the elements, they were a force to reckon with. And all of this was channelled through Tabira.

“We agree to cooperate. Do not forget your sins, Reiszer.”