There is something ethereal about being constantly on the run. You are never safe. You do not have a single moment of peace. The shadow of your pursuers looms over your shoulder, constantly breathing its icy tendrils of hate and fear. You constantly look over your shoulder, wishing, hoping, that you do not find one of your accursed pursuers behind you.

The very act of looking behind you becomes a figurative state of mind. It does not matter if you had done it only a few minutes ago, it does not matter if you had done it only a few seconds ago. The urge to look into the horizon behind you never ceases.

This paranoia only worsens as the days turn into weeks. Strength of character can only take you so far….you would have to bow down to your fear eventually.

Arran and Isan were no exceptions to the fears of their mortal minds. They had been on the run for weeks, trying to maintain as much of a lead as possible over their inevitable pursuers. They had stayed off the worn down roads, preferring to make their way through obscure paths. It had been a long time since they had a proper roof over them and even longer since they had had a hearty meal. 

They had stopped at the first village they had come across to restock on their supplies and procure any necessary provisions. They had bypassed all of the villages that they had come across after that, preferring to go around them.

Egon had long put up a hefty bounty on Arran. His daughter was a necessary part of the plan to ally with Tusian after all. The bounties had described Arran as a thief. They had made it seem like Arran had stolen Equs and the other horse before kidnapping Isan. The very fact that the wanted posters have been put up in the villages indicated that riders had reached the villages before Arran and Isan could. This was likely due to the fact that Arran and Isan actively avoided the roads while Egon’s riders rode light and fast, choosing to resupply their horses at each village rather than rest them. It would be dangerous for Arran or Isan to venture into the village lest someone would identify them from the posters. 

Arran was right at home on the saddle, the same however, couldn't be said of Isan. She hadn't complained once no matter how tough the going became. Arran was accustomed to hardships, his daily life as a slave filled with manual labour and hard riding. It had resulted in a lean and muscled body, capable of taking any abuse dished out to it. Isan on the other hand, lived in luxury and wealth. Being thrown so suddenly into this life of hardships had surely been a great shock for the noble. She did however, take everything in stride. Arran had been initially surprised at her tenacity and will, only to realise that they were what had kept Isan going through her life. They were what had made it possible for the two of them to meet, despite all odds.

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After many days ring hard in the saddle, they finally reach their destination. They could not take up residence in any of the local villages without being noticed. Cities around Cyrium were also out of the question since Egon had strong trade ties with them and news of Arran and Isan would have definitely reached them by now. They only had one option left, The Villide Fen.

The huge jungle sprawled in front of them served as the perfect location for them to hide. Even if their pursuers searched for them in the fen, it would be a half hearted effort. The humongous forest was said to be cursed. It had been said that not a single soul that enters the cursed lands can return to tell its tale. The closest village was tens of miles away, any semblance of civilisation dwindling as one reached the fen. Within the vast forest, it would be almost impossible for any half-hearted pursuers to track them down, provided Arran and Isan take sufficient precaution. 

Though the rumours and tales around the fen shrouded it in mystery and death, making Arran and Isan slightly hesitant at first, they had no other choice. They had to capitalise on the fact that getting over their own fear with regards to the woods meant that they could utilise it as a safe haven. The fact that they were tired of all the running also served as an additional factor in making them decide to stay in the fen. They had grown weary, they had grown desperate. One would be surprised at the decisions one takes when they have had enough. Theirs was one such case. They had thrown caution to the wind when they decided to make the fen their home.

“I look forward to making a home with you” Isan said teasingly, as they entered the gloomy forest, against all sanity, against all adversity.