"We must cover our tracks, they have picked up on our trail." Isaac told them.

"Okay, I understand that." Luke huffed. "But that doesn't explain why we're rock climbing!"

"Because," Isaac started. "They know which direction we are heading, if we cut back through the cliffs and hills, they won't be able to track us as easily as through the brush."

"That doesn't make sense!" Luke said. "We're heading back towards them."

"We're heading back above them." Isaac said. "They won't be in the hills and cliffs, they will be down in the forest following our trail. When they track us to the beginning of the cliffs they will rightly assume that we are taking the rocks to break up our trail. However, they will also wrongly assume that we are taking the cliffs and hills towards Wildeburgh, when we are actually looping back around them towards Hollyheln."

"I don't understand why we can't just make for Wildeburgh." Luke said. "I should certainly like a nice ale and maybe a bite of something other than oats and water!"

"Wildeburgh is not safe." Isaac said. "If they reached us on the birch tree hill, than they have already infiltrated the town and are awaiting us. If I had my men..." He trailed off and went quiet. "If I had my men. Well, it would be another story." He finished.

"I don't like this." Luke said quietly to William. "We're heading right back towards those killers."

"You heard what Isaac said, Luke." William defended. "They won't track us up here."

"I understand that, but where are we heading, anyway?" Luke said. "He's leading us all through this wilderness, being attacked by killers and the like, I can't help but feel we would be safer on our own."

"We are heading deeper into the hills, Luke." Isaac called.

"Wait, deeper into the hills?" Luke asked. "But the hills are bandit country, no one even takes their wagons through there. We can't go through the hills!"

"The bandits are far less of a threat to us than those who chase us." Isaac said. "It must be done."

Luke shook his head. "Out of the frying pan..." He muttered.

They continued their trek along the top of the cliffs overlooking the fields of wheat and thick forests. Off to one distance they could the small village of Wildeburgh just beyond the woods, and on the other...

"Look, William." Luke said quietly. "So my heart's fear is true..."

Luke pointed past the forest. Even from the high cliffs they could see the burnt rubble and blackened ash of the remains of Hollyheln, now nothing more than a charred skeleton with a somber pillar of light smoke still lingering over it.

"Then it wasn't just the chapel." William stared. "Oh, Luke!" He mourned as tears came to his eyes.

"Nothing can be done of it, Will." Luke said strongly, but felt those same tears coming to his own eyes. He wanted to ask, but in his heart he could feel the answer. But his mouth couldn't help but say.

"Do you think my father made it out?" He asked lamely as they stared at the ruins.

Isaac came behind them and laid a hand on each shoulder. "I'm sorry." He said. "But our enemy does not leave survivors. There's no one from your village who would have been spared."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"But you don't know that!" Luke retorted, shaking off the hand on his shoulder. "He could have made it out! He could have fled to the woods. There was a glade in the woods he would take me hunting to, if he made it out he would have gone there!" He looked to William. "Will, my father might be waiting for me, we have to go back!"

"I'm sorry, Luke." William said. "But it's not safe."

"And what about my father?" Luke accused. "If it's not safe then he is in danger every minute we spend up here! We have to go back and get him!" And he started marching away down the rocks before slowing and looking back. The other two weren't following him.

"Well, aren't you going to stop me?" Luke said to Isaac.

Isaac watched Luke with a look of pity, like he had seen this same thing many times. "My duty is to protect the Redeemer." He said somberly. "I'm sorry for your loss, Luke. I truly mean that."

"William?" Luke asked, looking to his best friend.

"I want to come with you, Luke, I really do." William said. "But I just can't. I don't know about this prophesy business or anything of the sort, but I know that I still have a part to play in all this, and I can't risk going back. Not now."

Luke nodded his head, and swallowed hard. He stared down at the ground for a minute thinking.

"Fine." He said, nodding his head in decision. "If you won't help me find my father, then good luck with you and your prophesy." He said the last word with derision, and turned away, stomping down the hillside.

"Luke!" William called back and made to run after him before Isaac put a hand on his shoulder.

"Let him go." Isaac said. "He has made his decision. Come, this is no place to camp for the night."

William wondered sorrowfully what else he could lose. Every person he knew was dead or gone, his one tie to the world broken, and now where was he? Marching away from all that he knew with a mysterious knight telling him he was supposedly the redeemer of mankind. He hadn't had any time to think, any time to process, they were always on the move or fighting. He felt as if his mind was an ingot of iron that had been superheated in a smelter, its original shape lost forever, and how it would be reshaped, he didn't know.

They made their way away from the cliffs and climbed higher up the slopes and into the hill country. Their cross-trek led them to a winding road. The dirt was relatively undisturbed beside some boot prints that Isaac reckoned were a few days old.

"Probably bandit tracks." He said as he crouched down and examined them. "Shouldn't be much of a concern."

They walked along the road, the sun was in the latter half of the Western sky and the clouds grew thick and gray as if they wanted to rain.

"We should find shelter." Isaac said. "I don't think it will be wise to sleep under the stars tonight."

The hill country was like a long, sloping, rocky plain. The vegetation that grew was mere grass, lichen and moss. In the distance so often they could see a herd of deer meandering their way as they grazed, and ahead of them were the high mesas; the plateaus of grey rock where the bandits dwelt. And they walked straight towards them.