Zan and Jiehong stumbled into town after the mission. This time, the guards at the gate, seeing them return from some rebel activity, side-eyed them fiercely. They still did not stop them from coming inside the city, but Zan officially considered himself on notice with them.

“Funds for a room?” Zan asked.

“A bit,” was all Jiehong said.

Zan knew he had more. He probably wanted to save a few coins for drinks.

Paying for a room, which came with a basic bowl of gruel, Zan told Jiehong about the rebel discovery, the many outposts along the Western Way.

“Sounds like shit creek,” Jiehong said, crudely.

“Yeah. We’re in that creek, remember?” Zan reminded him.

“Okay. Your point?”

Zan finished his gruel and replied: “We need to go back to Thundervale. Ask Colonel Winters for help.”

“Colonel Winters?! What are you on? You really think a high-ranking officer like him would really lend us troops?”

“Yes. He said he owed us and whatever he could do for us in the future, we shouldn’t hesitate to summon him,” Zan stated.

“He was being nice, Zan. He owes us nothing for saving his hide. It isn’t like we launched that operation just to save him.”

“It is our only shot…”

Finishing his bowl of gruel, both of them ready to turn in, Jiehong said, “Even if that was the case, Zan, we wouldn’t be there with them. We can’t ride, remember?”

The memory struck Zan. Jie was right. They couldn’t ride.

“Would that really matter?” Zan asked. “As long as the rebels have allies they can call upon to drive out the invaders, why would it matter if we were there with them?”

“Because it isn’t our fight. Aren’t we these ‘Ranger-Knight’ Order adherents now? Isn’t our task to eradicate evil, whatever that means? Not fight by the side of rebels?!”

“Yeah. But this invasion concerns us, and our future. We should do everything in our power to ensure our allies have proper reinforcements. Rebels or no, we can't be picky when picking our allies.”

“That isn’t our job, Zan. That’s the king’s job. That is the job of the king’s generals. Our job is to eradicate evil. I’m going to bed.”

There, the conversation ended.

Zan would have been more upset with his friend’s limited view of things, but he was too exhausted. He collapsed to his bed and slept like a baby.

Woken up by the housekeeping lady who needed to clean, Zan saw Jiehong had already left. Which was fine. Glancing at the window and seeing the low sun, he had slept a good part of the day.

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Heading downstairs after dressing — and avoiding the curious glances of the housekeeper — he was about to head out to town when the barmaid said, “Going home?”

“Nah. I need to find my friend,” Zan replied, taking a few steps to her.

“He went out a couple of hours ago. Paid for stuff. Bought you a meal, if you want it,” the barmaid said.

Feeling his stomach unhappy, Zan relented. He ordered up a classic breakfast spread. The keep recommended an egg-heavy, chicken-heavy meal, which she prepared so fast it made his head spin. Zan practically inhaled the food. It wasn’t anything special; just lots of eggs prepared different ways with chicken similarly prepared different ways. On the side was a gravy and diced and fried potatoes.

“Damn fine meal!” Zan exclaimed, finishing the whole hefty plate.

“If I am ever back in town, I will drop by for more of this cooking!” Zan continued, wiping his mouth. The barkeep giggled and sent Zan off on his way; the business picking up with the setting of the sun.

Outside, Zan saw the fading remnants of the Slipstream. He reached for the sky, incanted the simple, holy prayer, and found himself charged, slightly, with the otherworldly radiation. Better than nothing, Zan mouthed.

Outside and partially charged, Zan began his search for Jiehong.

Then he thought better of it.

Tapping his finger to his earpiece, he said, “Jie. Where are you? We need to be leaving.”

He got a response right away. “On my way back to the tavern. I was… just looking for any leads on the translator.”

“Awesome. I will wait,” Zan said, not asking for details. He clearly heard the slightly slurred speech to his friend’s tone. Too many darn bars in this town, Zan said.

Jiehong found him twenty minutes later. By then, Zan wasn’t happy.

“Oh, wild scene in this town, buddy — wild!” Jiehong said, perhaps forgetting about his supposed excuse of having looked for a translator.

“Let’s go. We have a walk ahead of us,” Zan said.

“We heading back to the base?” Jie asked, still smiling.

“No. As I said, Thundervale. We should at least try to find allies for Whiskey.”

Although Zan did not see Jiehong roll his eyes, he felt his displeasure when he spoke. “Seriously?! You’re still going on about that?”

“Just because you don’t think it is a good idea doesn’t mean it isn’t!” Zan yelled, attracting the glance of a guard or two.

“It isn’t like that, Zan. I KNOW it is a bad idea. It is a bad idea on the surface, it is a bad idea at its core! Heck! It is even a bad idea at the level of an idea! That’s how bad it is, that is how much of a time waster it is!” Jiehong yelled back.

“It isn’t, and I am shocked you would so go out of your way to turn your back on your fellows! Because they have different ideas than you, you think it is okay to cast them out and wash yourself of them. It’s sad!”Zan retorted.

Passing by the guards at the town’s gate, Jiehong stepped close to one and asked him, “Hey, buddy? Let me ask you a quick hypothetical: if you were asked to fight alongside rebels to defend this country, would you?”

The guard considered. He said, “No. They would stab me in the back.”

“See!” Jiehong said. “SEE!”

“And that’s the fucking problem — for both of you!” Zan yelled.

Jiehong and the guard were shocked into silence.

Zan continued: “We’re trying to beat back an invasion, and both of you are so focused on the forest, you don’t realize the trees are trying to kill you and take over! You each would rather sit back and face oblivion independently than work together and live, thrive?! Screw that! Screw both of you! And forget ever having my respect! Now Jie, as your commanding officer, let’s fucking go!”

Zan could not see the guard’s reaction. Not through his visor.

Jiehong looked shocked. Genuinely.

Zan had actually never — or at least, very rarely — seen Jie with such a look on his face. He fell into line but remained silent.

Hours passed on the road. Jiehong still did not talk. Zan talked neither.

What was there to talk about, really? Their disintegrating friendship? Their war-philosophical differences?

That was when, buzzing in his ear like a fly, he heard a whisper.

“Test, test. Can you hear me?” a soft-spoken voice queried.

Letting the voice repeat itself so Zan knew he wasn’t going crazy. On the third asking, he replied. “I hear ya. Luxley? Is that really you?”