The warmth of the morning sun cresting the eastern horizon brought little relief for Gideon and the rest of Surelin’s council. The thousands of people who’d escaped from Loso through the west gate urgently needed medical attention, food, and direction. The resistance spent the pre-dawn hours trying to spread the word that preparations had been made for a migration to Forelia. Many refugees simply refused to accept the resistance’s authority, however, and hundreds melted away into the countryside, headed for destinations only they could know.
Virtually all of the Forelians who’d managed to escape Loso decided to head west with Surelin and the resistance, along with a surprising number of foreigners. Len ordered a headcount started, but with thousands of people walking on foot spread out across miles and miles of road, getting an accurate count would be an extraordinarily difficult task that would take at least several days.
The road leading west from Loso cut through heavily forested hills and valleys. The trees had lost their leaves many weeks before, and the frozen-hard ground was covered with spotty patches of snow. Grey and brown were the landscape’s primary colors, with the blue, cloudless sky overhead providing the only contrast. The night’s unusual warmth had not abated as yet, but the full brunt of winter's wrath was sure to come. Surelin’s council had agreed during the planning stages that helping the people survive the elements until the end of winter would be their primary challenge during the migration, and they had done what they could to prepare for it.
After dawn, the grain caravan traveled west with the migration for several hours until it reached a sleepy valley with a small, gently flowing river passing through it. At the bottom of the valley, hugging the river, lay the village of Logger’s Crossing. The southern and eastern slopes of the valley had been heavily logged, giving the migration a clear view of the village and its surrounding countryside from the road. White smoke poured from dozens of chimneys, and Gideon could clearly see the watermill on the village’s north side rotating.
Somehow this place never changes.
The caravan rolled to a stop after entering the village square, allowing the migration to continue on without it. Once they’d halted, Kara jumped off the lead wagon and approached the caravan’s rear, where Surelin and Gideon had taken a seat to rest their tired feet.
“So far so good,” Kara told them, looking bone tired. “I’ll need some of your people to help with readying the rest of the wagons we’ve got stored here.”
Len nodded to her from where he lay in the wagon. “Of course. Take anyone you need.”
“And take your time,” Surelin added. “We need to wait for grandmother to arrive, anyway. Hopefully they’ll be here soon.”
“Ma’am, I recommend we send a few sentries to the east to watch the road,” said Len.
Surelin gave him a weary nod. “Ask for volunteers. Everyone else should rest.”
Eli's butcher’s shop sat on the square’s south side by the river, and Gideon watched as he emerged from it, headed in their direction. He seemed to have gained a significant amount of weight since the last time Gideon had seen him, along with much more gray in his hair and beard.
He got old.
Eli crossed through the stream of refugees flowing down the road with a look of intense irritation on his face, and stopped in front of Kara and the rest with his hands on his hips. His gaze locked onto Gideon, who was studying him warily.
“Seems our albatross has returned,” Eli said coldly. “Kali knows what we’ve done to deserve you.”
Gideon frowned and cast his eyes downward.
“Are my wagons still in storage, Eli?” Kara asked him.
“Oh, they’re right where you left them, young miss, but you didn’t say a damn thing about all…this,” he said, waving flippantly at the people in the road behind him. “Do you have any idea how frightened our people are? Thousands of strangers just showing up out of nowhere, walking around, drinking our water…”
“We can pay you for the trouble, sir,” Len said.
“You can’t buy us, stranger,” Eli barked at him. “What we want is for you to leave. As fast as your legs can compel you.”
“We will, sir,” Surelin said placidly. “We have no business here other than to pick up our wagons. Our people will inconvenience you for only a day or so.”
“A day or so,” Eli scoffed.
Gideon got to his feet then, heading for the north-west road which led out of the square towards the sawmill. He felt Surelin’s eyes glued to his back as he walked off.
They’d rebuilt the old cobblestone wall at some point after he’d left. He approached it and removed his gauntlet to run his bare fingers slowly over the top. It felt cold and rough.
The old wall used to come up to my forehead. Now it’s only up to my navel.
He looked up and scanned the forest, taking in the all-too-familiar sight, then looked north to where the cottage used to lay beyond the trees.
I’ve seen this place in my dreams so often that it doesn’t feel real anymore. It’s like dream and reality has become jumbled together.
The footpath leading home had become overgrown long ago, and the snow lining it crunched underneath his sabatons as he followed it into the woods. A feeling like hope swelled in his chest as he approached, only to immediately deflate once he entered the clearing. The only thing that remained of the cottage was a few scorched foundation stones and ancient, torched logs. Dead, dried out grass and patches of snow covered the dirt where the wood floorboards used to be.
Gideon walked into the ruins, stepping over a blackened line of foundation stones that used to be part of the cottage's front wall, then took a slow look around.
There’s no evidence that I ever lived here, anymore.
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Snow crunched underneath his feet as he took a few steps over to where his room used to be. He cleared out a bit of snow with his foot, then began to strip out of his armor, setting it and his claymore in a neat pile in the room's nonexistent corner. The air felt cool on his skin once it had been freed of the armor, and the ground felt freezing on his back as he laid down where his bed used to be.
Maybe if I fall asleep I’ll go back in time, he thought, crossing his hands behind his head. Maybe I’ll wake up right here, in bed.
But sleep didn’t come. He stared up into the blue sky for a long time, his mind racing in random directions, until he heard footsteps crunching in the snow nearby. Something about the footsteps told him who it was without having to look up.
Surelin entered his vision, peering down at him from the sky with a curious look.
“What are you doing?”
“Laying in bed. What’s it look like?”
She raised an eyebrow. “…That’s dirt and snow you’re laying on.”
“Yeah. Take a seat, if you like.”
She left his vision, and he heard her take her helmet off after sitting down next to him.
“How do you know Eli?”
He blinked. “I don’t.”
“You don’t? Then why did he call you their albatross?”
“Yeah. That was kinda weird, huh.”
“Gideon…”
“What?”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m on your side,” she added, pleading.
He turned his head towards her. She sat cross-legged with her helmet in her lap, giving him a look filled with concern.
“I’m from here,” he told her flatly.
“You’re from here? You mean this village?”
“Yeah.”
“...I remember you told me you were from a village west of Loso.”
“Hmm.”
“What’s this place then?” she asked, looking around.
“What’s it look like?”
A frustrated sigh suddenly left her. “Gideon. We’ve been through so much together, but I feel like I still don’t know a single thing about you. Please tell me something about yourself. Anything.”
“...You’re sitting where my dresser used to be.”
She looked around herself. “Your dresser?”
He nodded.
“You’re saying this ruined building was your home? What happened to it?”
“I burned it down.”
“...Okay. That’s surprising. Why did you do that?”
“The bad memories outweighed the good ones, I guess.”
“You mean memories of Deb?”
The question gave him pause. “...Yes.”
“Will you tell me about her?”
“Sure. Who gives a shit. The person who gave birth to me dumped me on Deb when I was a baby. I lived here with her until she died.”
Her eyes darted around his face, studying him intensely. “Go on…?”
He shrugged, a gesture made slightly difficult by laying prone. “That was fifteen years ago. When she died I was…I became a mercenary. That’s pretty much it.”
Surelin’s expression became a complicated mix of intrigued and frustrated. “...You became a mercenary at ten years old? Oh, Gideon, I'm sorry. But…that can’t be it. There’s more you don’t want to tell me.”
An angry sigh exploded from him. “I promise I’ll tell you everything someday. Just not now, not while we’re running away from Loso and about to get into who knows what. I’m too fucking tired to talk about this.”
She looked disappointed, but nodded. “...Okay. That’s an important promise. I’m going to hold you to it.”
“Thanks. I…” He shook his head. “Thank you.”
She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There’s an inn here, apparently.”
“Yeah…?”
“Marshal Len wants me to take one of the rooms for tonight.”
“You should.”
She shook her head angrily. “How can I sleep in a warm bed when all the rest of you will be sleeping outside in the cold? We should give it to one of the wounded.”
“You’re the leader, Surelin. You need to have enough energy to make good decisions for us.”
“...I suppose there’s some truth to that. Did I—um. Was this the right decision, do you think? Going to Forelia…?”
He studied her quietly for a moment. “Kinda late to be doubting it. I dunno, maybe it was the best decision for everyone else. If I were you I would’ve just left the moment Edea tried to put all this on me. But if I was more…kind hearted, like you? I think I probably would’ve made the same choices.”
His answer seemed to please her. “...Why is it when we’re talking about me you have so much to say, but when the topic is you your lips are sealed?”
“You’re more interesting,” he said, smirking.
She rolled her eyes and got to her feet. “I strongly disagree. Are you going to come back to the caravan? You shouldn’t sleep alone out here.”
He nodded. “I’ll come back. Just give me a few more minutes.”
“Okay,” she smiled.
As she walked away, Gideon thought over what she’d said.
She makes good decisions despite having lots of doubts. And I make shit decisions but never have doubts until it’s too late. She’s way smarter than me.
----------------------------------------
Gideon had intended to get up, but instead he fell asleep where he lay. And he dreamed.
Surelin marched alone on a road cloaked in shadow, carrying an unlit lantern. Her destination had already been corrupted by rot and decay, though she did not know it yet. The moon wheeled in the sky above her, the only source of light in the world as she forged ahead.
Before her came a deep shadow, one far greater than the shadow around it, that could not be penetrated by light. Within itself, the shadow took on the shape of a mask, featureless and inky black because no mortal container could hold it.
It spoke to Surelin in a wordless language, one of base feeling and primordial instinct.
“Look upon me,” it seemed to whisper. “And see your true fate. I am unavoidable. I am inevitable. All else is vanity.”
Surelin lifted her lantern up to the shadow. In a blinding flash of light the moon disappeared from the sky, and Surelin transformed into the blonde woman. Armed with newfound power, she entered the shadow, disappearing into its inky black depths.