Dawn of Darkness Short Stories

by EmblemQueen

This a series of short stories that's related to FE: Dawn of Darkness. Note: The second story, Ashes of War, is referenced in the first story, A Mercenary's Tale. Pairings: IkexElincia, KieranxMarcia, slight GeoffreyxOC, other OC pairings.

25. Conflict of the Heart: Part 5

Author's Note: Just a quick note, there's actually technically a second half to this, it'll be coming up later. The chapter got split into two again since Falchion loves outdoing himself with his two cents. But we want the story to be it's best, of course!

Part 5: Emotional Decisions

It has been remarked by many of the philosophical persuasion that water never forgets.

Some of the waves later wrote that just as surely as water acted as a force for miraculous creation who had survived the Great Flood, in which so many lands and lives were lost beneath one moment and incomprehensible destruction the next, it forgot nothing that it has ever been a part of. Whether an eternity of surging waves that little by little erodes away the face of the cliff or part of the warmth in which a child forms prior to being birthed into the world, water remained a mute and indifferent witness to history, forgetting nothing that entered or emerged from its depths.

Had Jerec been of the philosophical persuasion, he might've wondered if the Everfrost would remember the frantic perspiration which had landed in the water during the frantic pursuit or the few tears of his that vanished into its frigid flow.

Of one thing Jerec was certain; he would never forget.

Not that he had much time to ponder much about the Everfrost, save for how, or if,it might help him escape his pursuers.

Even after Jerec had beached the stolen dinghy and retrieved his supplies from it, he hadn't dared stop. Now that all of Rivertown knew the truth of his identity, he didn't doubt for a moment that their ire would drive them to continue the chase. And since many of his would-be pursuers were skilled watermen, he likely could not afford to waste even a moment. He also knew that his pursuers had the home-field advantage. After generations spent sailing and fishing on the Everfrost, not to mention picking up the pieces after her frequent floods, the people of Rivertown surely knew the river, its banks, currents, and idiosyncrasies, the way husbands and wives known one another.

They were also experienced boatmen, while Jerec barely knew portside from starboard.

Yet, though Jerec was no sailor, he was a soldier. He'd fought and bested many foes, some of which were mightier than himself. He knew how to get inside the heads of his foes, to glean what they'd think and why, and how to turn that to his advantage.

Believing him to be a rank amateur on the water, which Jerec had to admit, might not be far from the truth, they'd surely expect him to paddle as far as he could and then once he'd reached the very limits of his endurance, beach his craft wherever he could find easy egress from the water. Likely a strip of sand or turf that was flat and open, which would make beaching his craft a simple matter and offer decent footing. From there, he would flee to parts unknown.

That was what his pursuers would surely expect, so Jerec did no such thing.

Instead, he sought out a treacherous portion of the riverbank, strewn with rocks that most sailors would avoid for fear of their boat being shredded beneath them. What's more, his chosen egress lay a fair distance above the waterline, boulders large and small forming a precarious staircase which offered a long and dangerous journey up...and a very quick and potentially fatal way back down.

Only a lunatic would choose such a location to disembark while fleeing pursuit, which, hopefully, meant that the vengeful folk of Rivertown would never guess that Jerec had done just that.

Before setting out, he unslung his lance and drove its heavy pommel into the boat's hull with all his might. The wood splintered and then cracked after several blows, allowing water to seep in through the small breach. The lancer then shoved the craft back into the river, watching as it was carried into the distance until, finally, it sank out of sight. Having spent some time amongst the hearty and hardworking people of Rivertown, and even coming to respect their strong sense of loyalty to family and neighbors alike, Jerec felt a pang of guilt over destroying one of their boats.

However, after tonight, it was likely the least of his, and probably anyone's worries back in Rivertown as well.

Shaking himself back to the present, the lancer quickly assessed his hastily drawn escape plan. If his likely pursuers assumed he'd want to get as far away as he could and then find an area where he could easily disembark, their search would likely take them much further down the river than he'd actually traveled. If they found the now sunk dinghy, they'd likely believe he'd left the river then and there, and would search for tracks they'd never find. Meanwhile, Jerec would clamber over the boulders, leaving no tracks whatsoever on the bare stone, and be well away before his pursuers doubled back.

The people of Rivertown would see through his little trick sooner or later, though that would mean they'd have the whole of the river to search. But for a chance to punish one of the hated Daeins, Jerec didn't doubt they'd try.

Making his way over the clump of boulders, carefully testing each foothold and skillfully adjusting his balance over the uneven surfaces, he soon reached the top. Letting out a sigh of relief, he ran east, without a care as to where he was going to find himself next. His subterfuge would buy him some time, but only so much, and any further planning would have to wait until he'd put some distance between himself and the river.

Besides, if he did slow down and start to think, he might recall just what he was running from…and how much it pained him.

Jerec had been a vagabond since shortly after the Mad King's War, a rootless wanderer who would travel as he pleased and earned his daily bread by offering his lance to whomever needed the aid of a seasoned warrior. He'd had to keep moving from place to place, rarely lingering and always evasive whenever questions arose about where he was from. More than once, people grew suspicious of him and this was not the first time he'd been forced to make a hasty exit…

…but it was the first time he'd truly regretted it.

Stiff-necked and short-tempered they might be, but he had come to respect the people of Rivertown. All too aware of how readily such trying times could cause one to fall into the trap of despair and apathy, or the far more insidious trap of concerning oneself solely with survival and rationalizing even the most deplorable acts to stay alive, Jerec had found Rivertown heartening. Her people had a sense of loyalty to their families and neighbors that was as strong as Ike's infamous biceps. They made a point of never letting a good turn go unpaid, even when they had little to offer in return or that good turn came from peoples strange and different, and only the most superficial complaints ever passed their lips even when floods upended their lives with jarring frequency.

After his latest brush with death had awakened him to how lonely he'd been during his years of wandering, he'd come to appreciate not only their strong sense of community but the simple pleasure of companionship.

Of course, the same infamous Rivertown stubbornness that allowed them to routinely rebuild homes and businesses damaged by the same river that gave them their livelihoods also meant those people were poor listeners. When Jerec had been exposed as a Daein, it hasn't taken him long to glean that any explanation would fall on deaf ears and staying to offer one would mean certain death. And thus, he'd had a taste of what it like was to finally have a place he'd like to call home and people he wanted to have as friends, only for a cruel whimsy of fate to snatch it all away again.

That wasn't the worst of it, however, but he shook himself back to attention and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

Within minutes, Jerec spied a familiar setting that let him breathe his first sigh of relief he'd had in quite some time. In his frantic dash, he had forgotten that the Everfrost flowed right into the shorter, but much wider river in the eastern side of the country, the Crimdae. He'd fought battles there, both before and after he'd shed the ebon armor of Daein, and knew the river's mouth lay right at the only path between Crimea and Daein: the Riven Bridge. Wishing he'd had the time to admire the workmanship of the massive span that arched over such a vast gulf of water and shoals to ironically link two countries who were separated by a gulf far deeper, the lancer made his way to what was as much an edifice to admire as it was a functional artery for travel.

The bridge had also become known as a battlefield over the years thanks to two pivotal engagements taking place on it during the wars and both involving Ike and his party. The first had been against General Petrine during the Mad King's War, when Ike and Elincia had returned to Crimea following their invasion of Daein, leading the Crimean Liberation Army to oust Ashnard and his followers from the late King Ramon's castle. The second such battle had found Ike and his party heading in the opposite direction across the bridge during the Goddess War, after the sudden arrival of Ike, along with the dethroned Empress Sanaki and her retainers, had turned a bleak engagement with Begnion on its head. Even after hearing Mist's explanation of the true reasons behind the Goddess War, Jerec still had more questions than answers about the conflict, though the lancer was all too aware that Ike's fortuitous timing had likely saved Crimea and the Laguz Alliance from total defeat, as well as saving Jerec's own life yet again.

Adding his lingering questions to the lengthy list of things Jerec planned on saying to Ike if they ever met again, he turned his attention back to the road and decided that he had best follow the Crimdae River to the bridge. Once that was done, he would essentially be in Daein…and surely safe from any Rivertown residents overtaking him. Even if they figured out where he had gone, it was doubtful they'd risk pursuing him into a country that would most assuredly be hostile to Crimeans. He could move on with his journey to meet with Tauroneo with no more setbacks or interruptions.

Well, sort of.

Though Jerec missed the taste of community and fellowship he'd so briefly rediscovered in Rivertown, it was not the worst of his losses when he'd been forced to flee. Not by a long shot.

For the first time in his life, Jerec had also discovered love, only to have it torn from his grasp by a most malicious trick of fate.

"Melanie," he whispered to himself, the name alone squeezing tears from his eyes.

Melanie still weighed heavily on Jerec's mind. Though they'd only known each other for a few days, that had been more than enough for Jerec to become enchanted by the young woman's grit and gumption, her nearly limitless patience and understanding, and the strength of her convictions, not the least of those being that even a land with as bloody a history as Daein could still birth good people.

After all, when he'd revealed himself to her, she'd regarded him as living proof.

But their confession, and with it, the taste of freedom from having to hide behind their respective masks, had come at a high price when their words reached unfriendly ears.

Guilt over the trouble he'd caused her burned in Jerec's gut…but that guilt paled in comparison to the knowledge that he'd been forced to leave her behind to face greater trouble alone. At first, in the heat of the moment, and with the prospect of being torn to pieces by an angry mob looming over him, Jerec felt that leaving without her was the best option, that it would prevent the situation from getting worse. But now he wasn't so sure. Like himself, Melanie was burdened by her own secrets and had welcomed the catharsis of finally having someone with whom she could share some truths she dared tell no other, not the smallest of which being she did not love her fiancé and had been willing to run away, with a Daein expatriate, no less, to escape an unwanted marriage.

In a manner of speaking, surrounded by people who cared for her but whom she had to lie to every day, Melanie had been more alone than Jerec had been.

Now, however, her secrets were out and she was alone, even more so than she had ever been before, to face Raphael and her parents' undoubtedly considerable fury all by herself. Though the lancer certainly believed Marv to be a loving father, especially since Melanie might be the only young person left in the family since Ashnard had all her cousins hung, he also knew Marv hated Daein for taking nearly all of his loved ones. What's more, even the best parents could react harshly when one of their children lies to their faces. Indeed, and ironically, some of the best parents were just that because they answered such behavior sternly, as Jerec had learned from his own father after he'd concocted a less-than-impressive cover story to explain how an "experimental sampling" had emptied Bryce's liquor cabinet.

Jerec had only a hazy but unpleasant recollection of what his punishment had been, but it was enough that he began to wonder if he should've stayed. Even now, Melanie's neighbors, having been denied a chance to vicariously avenge their misfortunes on the Daein who'd skulked into their lives, might decide that Melanie deserved their ire just as much. If he had stayed, and somehow avoided being chopped into fish bait, could he have kept them from mistreating her, and possibly even disowning her? At this very second, they could've been forcing her to pack her bags and leave, figuring that she'd disgraced her family by cavorting with a Daein man behind her fiancé's back.

Feeling chills of worry climb his spine, Jerec tried to calm himself down and think clearly. Even if Melanie had tried to come with him during his escape, could she have kept up with his mad dash and dangerous leap towards the river? He respected her strength, but he doubted it. Even if she could've leapt towards the low docks, suppose she'd had a bad landing and broken a leg…or even her neck? For that matter, what if she'd missed her mark, landed in the churning water, and he'd been unable to reach her?

It occurred to him that he could turn back…but he had come so far and the sky was now dark. He was also growing weary from his flight and simply couldn't delay his meeting with Tauroneo too much longer. He also wondered if Melanie wouldn't actually be in greater danger if she did accompany him there. After all, he was returning, hopefully briefly, to Daein, where hatred for Crimea still ran strong in places. At least with her parents, there was a chance that they would listen when it counted, as Melanie had said they'd done when they saw real proof that King Ramon had been right to reach out to the laguz. In Daein, however, In Daein, they were almost certain to run into people that hated Crimeans, and if Melanie was discovered…Jerec didn't even want to think about it.

They say love will find a way, but this one's a doozy, he mused sadly.

Forcing away his melancholy, the lancer tried to focus on just what it would mean if, somehow, Melanie and he did find a way to reunite. Maybe he would get the chance to go back for her, or since she already knew where he was going, perhaps she might try to catch up with him. Either prospect was dangerous, since a second run-in with Rivertown's now hostile people might end differently for Jerec, and Melanie faced danger far greater in venturing after him alone.

Assuming they did meet again, which was unlikely enough, they would have to hide her origins while she was in Daein, just as he had hid his own across the border.

The more Jerec dissected the notion, the crazier it sounded. Even if the two of them eventually found a home, a real home, the intervening weeks, months, or even years, would be harsh. As he himself had pointed out to her, they'd be hunting and foraging for every meal, sleeping on the turf, they'd have little money, and only whatever small comforts they could carry on their backs. Even if they weren't killed by bandits one day, or died of starvation the next, either was just as likely to happen the day after.

He had told her as much, and yet she hadn't cared.

Perhaps, as he himself had mused earlier, she had as little to lose as he did.

After all, she had been trapped by her impending marriage to a man she did not love, and the truth of how she felt, about Jerec and Raphael, had likely made her an outcast from her home just as surely as Jerec's change of heart had forced him from Daein. Maybe he wasn't within his rights to allow Melanie to join him in what he knew was a harsh and meager life, but he knew that she had already made her choice.

And if she had been thrown out of her home, it would be best for her to come with Jerec regardless of the danger or his reservations.

But more than that, Melanie had saved Jerec's life, let him into her heart, and trusted him when so few had for years. And all she'd wanted in return was a chance to live her life on her own terms at his side.

Whether that choice was wise or not, he owed it to her to respect her wishes.

At that point, Jerec decided that there was only one thing he could do: keep his original promise.

Mel, I've decided. I'll come back for you when my journey is done. I told you I would return, and I will, regardless of what others think, he fumed mentally with a sniffle. I promise!

Jerec still hated having to make Melanie wait for him, especially when he pondered just how her family and neighbors might've reacted to Raphael exposing them, but he knew this plan would keep her safer than going back and trying to snatch her from Rivertown. And even if they did have to sneak into Daein somewhere down the road, at least they'd have more time to plan out how to avoid detection. With that, he hastened in a search for a place to bed down for the night. There were no towns or villages visible in the distance, so Jerec would have to hide himself among some trees as best as he could. And thankfully, there were a few copses here and there between his location and Riven Bridge, offering concealment from prying eyes. Hastily scattering stones and dry twigs to alert him to anyone straying too close, and wondering if he'd sleep through his own alarm as he had at the beginning of this journey, he dropped his knapsack, pillowed his head against it, and was out like a candle.

Somehow, not even his usual sleeping habits could prevent Jerec from waking rather early the next morning. His concerns for Melanie had kept him tossing and turning for some time, and he more than once pondered the grim prospect that she'd tried to follow him and had met some misfortune along the way. Frustrated as much by that very possibility as by the distance that now separated him from his love, he forced himself to wakefulness as early as possible so he could get back on the road and reach Daein. The sooner he resolved his family matters, the sooner he could find a way to be with Melanie. He hardly even ate anything after waking, he just immediately moved further up the river to the bridge. Searching his memory, he recalled there was a modest trading post not far beyond the bridge, just over the Daein border…

…well, "modest" was putting it politely.

Established by Ashnard's father during a lull in Crimea and Daein's mutual antipathy, the trading post, barely an hour's walk from the Riven Bridge, was ideally situated to act as a nexus of trade between Crimea and Daein.

It would've been most lucrative…if trade between Crimea and Daein ever actually happened.

Following the decimation of the Daein royal bloodline and Crimea and Daein's mutual antipathy once more rising, the small trading post was left to eke out whatever profits it could catering to the herdsmen and fishermen who earned their daily bread in Daein's northerly reaches.

He wasn't certain if it had survived the Goddess War, but even if it hadn't, he knew it was fairly close to a town. He decided either would be his next stop for the night.

"No one there should recognize me either," Jerec remembered. "I never really did go to towns on the outskirts of the country growing up. I either stayed home or passed right by them during my missions."

Though he doubted he would be recognized, Jerec did find himself wondering if there was any way he could rent a warm place to sleep for the night. Since he never expected to set foot in Daein again, he was poorly equipped to sleep out of doors during the colder months while in Daein's ever-chilly borders. What's more, he barely had two coins to rub together, so buying heavier clothing was an unlikely prospect. The lancer supposed he could gamble on finding some animals with pelts, which he could kill and skin to make his own clothing, or possibly finding herbs he could sell or barter for what he needed. Still, that would take time, and the lancer did not relish the idea of staying in Daein any longer than he had to, and not just because of the memories.

Nevassa, Daein's capital, had been Jerec's home most of his life due to Bryce's status as a Rider. It was also where Tauroneo's mansion was located as well, however. Jerec would definitely need to lay low once he reached the city so the townsfolk didn't discover him. He frankly had no way of knowing who knew, or still cared, about his change of heart regarding Ike and the laguz, but he didn't doubt that there were those who those who were…rather unhappy about it.

Within the next few hours, the bridge came into view. A marvel of engineering, it gently rose from the Crimean side, arcing over the water far below, until it alighted well beyond his vision. The span was also wide enough to accommodate several men or wagons travelling abreast and was watched over by the gray bulk of the small keep which guarded the Crimean side. The keep still stood despite having gone through two major battles, but whatever caretakers once lived there had surely fled years before due to the fighting. The vacant keep wasn't without signs of wear either, as some sections of stone were missing and climbing vines embraced its exterior. With the wars over, and even simple trade between the former enemies as remote a prospect as ever, Riven Bridge stood unused, unguarded, forlorn, and forgotten.

Jerec had no time to ponder these sad ironies, nor any hesitation to begin crossing it into Daein. Thankfully, the pit traps used during the battles were no longer there, having been filled in once the war ended to permit safe travel, and then-Queen Elincia had hoped for an eventual mending of fences between the nations of northern Tellius. During the Mad King's War, with the conflict slowly turning against them, Daein had sought to thwart Ike's counter-invasion by littering River Bridge with pit traps in hopes of disrupting and funneling the Crimean advance, making them easy targets for their archers, mages, and siege engines. Yet, once again Ike and his army still managed to overcome them and win the day, achieving yet another stunning victory which showed how much of a leader he had grown into in so short a time.

As he reached the other side, Jerec halted, trepidation filling him at the sight of the once familiar threshold. After all, he had been quite determined to leave Daein behind him years before and yet, with a few more steps, he would once more be on Daein soil. He could see the trading post in the distance, quiet as ever though people milled about, but he didn't continue just yet. Though he'd resolved to return days before, to cross the border he'd once defended in what felt like another life, he hadn't truly been ready for that last step. For a long moment, he could only take in deep breaths and try to come to grips with the fact that he was in his home country for the first time in years. After so much time spent away from Daein, its chill air and forbidding landscape felt strange and even unfamiliar to him, and he imagined its people would seem stranger still. He'd distanced himself so much that, as he'd told Melanie, it didn't feel like home at all anymore. Jerec never realized just how true that statement really was until now, when his former home seemed more foreign and bizarre to him than Altarais might have.

Jerec shook himself out of it moments later, knowing that he couldn't just stand around ruminating all day. He had a journey to complete, and then he had to return to the woman he loved. At that, he resumed his travels and made for the nearby trading post.

As it turned out, the lancer was propelled forward when his stomach began to rumble with hunger, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since the night before. Knowing that he was even more impoverished than usual, he wondered if there was much point in seeking a café or tavern. He had little with which to pay for a meal, and did not relish the time that would be lost skinning or foraging until he had enough to barter with.

Maybe getting on the road without eating wasn't a good idea, he thought. I need to look for a meal fast.

He did have some food in his knapsack. Never very much, since it was all he could carry, but the fare Melanie had helped him procure would prove nourishing. Jerec recalled how she'd insisted on buying some spices and cooking herbs for him, saying they could make almost anything taste delightful, and his eyes stung at the recollection. He shook himself back to attention, deciding he'd best save his own rations for emergencies, though this might actually qualify as one. Regardless, and despite his displeasure at the prospect of such a "meal," he decided to eat a few of the edible roots remaining from his earlier foraging, resolving to save the heartier fare for the long walk to Nevassa.

The dry, bland roots made for joyless dining and barely even blunted his hunger, so, by the time Jerec actually reached the trading post, he was practically starving. Forcing himself to concentrate on something besides his still grumbling stomach, he took stock of his surroundings. That trade between Crimea and Daein never materialized had hit the tiny settlement nearly as hard as two wars had. Even between morning and midday, the streets were sparsely filled and stores and stalls sported more cobwebs than either goods or customers. Though Jerec had never been to this dismal place before, he remained wary, as any one of the few grim faced souls he passed might very well recognize him. Jerec pulled up the hood of his cloak as a precaution, draping it to shadow his face and keeping his gaze fixed on the hard packed dirt road beneath his feet.

Guided as much by his nose as his eyes, he was soon led to a building which, when he cautiously raised his gaze, sported a sign identifying it as the Raven and Rat Inn and Tavern. Though it didn't smell promising, a quick glance between the prices listed below the sign and his coin pouch revealed that he could afford a meal. Barely.

Thanking Ashunera for this small favor, the lancer approached the chipped and weathered door. He paused for a moment, however, when a peculiar sound reached his ears. It almost sounded like a voice, though any words that were spoken reached him only as distant, unintelligible echoes. Yet, somehow, they worked a strange magic on him. Here, in this dismal huddle of half-empty, half-ruined shops, his stomach and purse empty as well and with the threat of discovery looming over him just as ominously as before, he somehow felt as though his anxieties, deep and many they might be, ebb slightly. No less bizarre, he sensed eyes on him, but where once such a sensation set his nerves on edge, he instead felt a curious warmth suffuse him.

And as if that wasn't strange enough, the sense of eyes upon him felt somehow familiar and even caused him to turn and search for whatever or whoever might be watching him. Yet, though his eyes darted about enough to attract some strange looks, he could not find whatever had stolen over him. The sounds yet persisted, though no words he could decipher reached the lancer's ears. But curiously, the sensation that something or someone was watching him, and the no less bizarre sense that whatever it was meant him no harm, grew stronger which each passing moment.

Perplexed, but somehow lightened, Jerec had been about to turn and enter the Raven and Rat when the sounds, finally, resolved into a voice.

In fact, it was a voice he knew all too well.

"Hey! WAIT!" a familiar female voice shouted.

The lancer felt himself go limp with astonishment.

She can't be here. That's impossible!

Stupefied, Jerec turned around, and what he beheld made his lower jaw drop. Running towards him was none other than Melanie. The lancer shook his head, certain she must be some sort of an illusion and not daring to hope otherwise, but that was disproven when a wonderfully warm, plum haired angel crashed into his torso and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She was quite solid too, Jerec only barely kept them both from sprawling to the dirt. For a long, long moment, the lancer could only return her embrace, too bewildered and yet too happy to even guess how she had managed to follow him. Yet, though his mind whirled with questions, the rest of him was almost entranced by the scent of her hair and the strong beat of her heart.

Almost.

She had fortunately chosen not to shout his name for everyone to hear. Even if bystanders had never seen Jerec before, it didn't mean they hadn't heard of him. Still, though most of the ever frustrated folk of this dreary trading post didn't spare the couple a second glance, the lancer did spy an eyebrow or two arching at their display. He was glad Melanie had the presence of mind to not blow his cover, but her foresight would be wasted if they attracted too many curious eyes.

"Jerec!" she blubbered, thankfully too soft for anyone to hear but underscoring his train of thought nonetheless. "Oh, Jerec!"

"Mel?!" was all that could come out of Jerec's mouth as he returned her hug. "What in the—?!"

"Jerec, I-I had to come!" Melanie insisted.

"…Hold on."

Afraid that his cover might end up being blown now anyway, Jerec quickly pulled Melanie aside, around the corner of the Raven and Rat to a back alley. Littered with trade goods that had rotted long before any potential buyers had materialized, the stench was dreadful and whatever it was they had to say to each other, their only likely audience would be half of the inn's namesake creatures as they munched on the refuse. Though ducking into this foul smelling corner ensured that not many would see or hear them, it also drove home the point that, whatever Melanie had left behind or fled from to chase after Jerec, the destination was no improvement.

Would it be better if he were to turn her back? The temptation was potent, but the thought was battered aside when he noticed one side of Melanie's face bruising up in purple and blue colors after she'd been struck by Raphael.

"…Whoa, that bruise is looking pretty bad. I'll have to get you some ice for it later. But Mel, I'm sorry to bombard you with questions, but what are you doing here? How did you get here? And did you really follow me all this way by yourself?!" Jerec blurted, unable to keep a hint of chastisement from his tone.

"Jerec, like I said, I had to find you! I still love you and couldn't bear to see you go," Melanie choked out, her glassy eyes making Jerec tremble. "When you and I first met, I was a prisoner in my own home. Everyone believed I would marry Raphael and that we'd live a long and happy life, and I just didn't have the heart to tell them I couldn't go through with it. Day after day, I pined for a way out, for someone I could trust with the truth of myself."

Here, she paused and in spite of their squalid surroundings, she smiled. It was a small smile, one as much of weariness as happiness, but Jerec couldn't help but be reminded of just why he'd habitually dubbed her an angel.

"And then, I met you," she continued. "You gave me the courage to stand up for myself and make my own decisions, regardless of what my parents or Raphael think. I may owe them much, but I can't sacrifice my own happiness for them. So I left. I remembered you telling me where you were going and traveled to the Riven Bridge. I knew you would have to cross it to get back to Daein, and I swore I'd catch up to you, even if I had to go on foot."

As she'd spoken, Jerec had produced a leather flask which, once upon a time, had continued a Vulnerary and with hands that trembled at each of Melanie's words, he clumsily scooped snow into the flask and handed it to her.

"Here," he said numbly, awestruck by her words. "This will reduce the swelling."

"Thank you," she said, gratefully pressing the leather to her eye. "My face does still hurt…"

As her words trailed off, Jerec was more than astonished. She'd gone all that way on her own, through a land half-devoured by banditry, leaving behind her home and family, all for him. He wasn't sure if this was an act of loving devotion or utter insanity.

For a long moment, he could not speak. The suddenness of it all had his tongue tied in knots and his mind was more awhirl now than before she'd explained her pursuit. It was true, he had wanted to go back for her, that he'd even hoped that she might find some way to catch up to him. Yet now, with that guarded hope suddenly taking shape and barreling into the waking world, the knowledge of the danger Melanie had placed herself in roared to forefront of his mind.

Now, on top of the grim prospect of her dying on the blade of a brigand or from the slow torture of starvation, there was the all too real chance she might be unmasked.

By following him all this way, she may have signed her own death warrant.

"Anyway, I…I see," Jerec rasped out, all too aware of just how small those words were, "but Mel, think about what you're saying! What about your family? It might not be too late for you to go home—"

"Go home to what?" Melanie interrupted, her expression hardening. "My parents? As far as they're concerned, I just spat on the graves of all my aunts, uncles, and cousins. To my neighbors, who all think I've betrayed them? Raphael? Even if he did take me back, I still don't love him."

Here, she paused and cupped his face with her hands.

"I have nowhere else to go…" she said simply, but without even a hint of blame or regret. "And nowhere else I'd rather be."

"I…" Jerec blurted, stunned at what he was hearing. "But you could've been killed trying to follow me. By Ashunera's underwear, I can't figure out how you managed it! And look where we are! You're in danger here!" Jerec pointed out. "If anyone here finds out your heritage, it could be over for us! I'm already branded a traitor by most Daeins and you're a Crimean. Besides, don't you remember what I told you back in Rivertown? Wandering every which where, hunting and foraging for every meal, sleeping out in the cold more often than not, the chance of being discovered looming at all hours. That's what I have to live through every day. And I don't want that for you at all. I love you."

"I know, Jerec…" Melanie replied. "And honestly, it does hurt that I had to leave Raphael and my family. But I didn't know what else to do. They wouldn't listen when I tried to reason with them. Nobody would. And that's not the half of it. My father was furious, he kept going on and on about how much he wanted you dead!"

"What?! Your parents would resort to that?! But—"

Jerec had been about to ask "why," but the answer struck him like a blow to the face. After all, Marv had lost his nearly his entire family to Ashnard during the Mad King's War. Jerec had never had a sibling, his present family matters notwithstanding, but a late night chat with Rolf had painted quite a vivid picture of just how much the young archer had been terrified by even the concept of losing one or even both of his brothers.

How much different might Rolf be today if those fears had been realized?

What's more, it was clear that Marv, for whatever reason, had had no closure after losing so much of his family. Now, with one of the Daeins, the very people he blamed for costing him so much, nearly within his grasp, how far might he be willing to go to get revenge for the many loved ones who'd been snatched away from him?

Probably about as far as I went with Ike, charging at him in the middle of a campaign when he saw me coming, Jerec reflected, less-than-heartened by the disturbingly apt comparison.

"I don't want to think he'd do it, I don't want to think any of them could…" Melanie rasped, fearful sobs choking her words. "But they were all so furious and wished someone would punish you for "stealing" me."

Perhaps the sheer shock that Melanie had chosen to follow him, and that she'd done so unharmed, was still too overwhelming. Or, maybe he found it impossible to believe that she was talking about the same man who never left the house without telling his wife and daughter how much he loved them in case he didn't make it home. Whatever the reason, it was only a glance at Melanie's face that undid Jerec's denial.

Melanie was a young woman of steady nerves and uncommon courage. She had to be in order to venture out of her home, in the middle of a bandit raid, to tend to Jerec and Heime, both of whom had been horrifically injured. And she'd done all that with only a handful of bandages and a few minutes of hastily given instructions to work with.

Melanie did not frighten easily, and Jerec's proof was in his pulse, yet in relaying her father's anger and the belief he'd seek revenge, she seemed terrified.

"Damn… I can't believe it myself. Your parents at least seemed like good people. Sure, I could see they hated Daein, but I understood that. Hell, I felt the same way about Ike when I first met him. But do you really think he'd follow me all the way here? He'd be taking at least as much a risk as you, and he has a wife to think of."

"I hope he doesn't, it would kill Mother to lose him," Melanie answered, but her eyes darted away from his. "But Father's not the only one. Raphael was with us at the time. He was angry and humiliated over what happened, and I was afraid he might…"

She trailed off there and despite her protestations that she'd made her choice, there was no hiding the conflict in her eyes at the prospect of two men she cared for coming to blows again. With an effort, Melanie shook herself from her reverie and went on.

"Raphael has had some combat training," she said. "He always said he wanted to surprise me with his skills someday, but all the troubles back…back in Rivertown kept getting in the way. I know he must have some skill, because his parents and mine agreed that at least one of us should know how to fight in the event that we'd have to defend ourselves, and Father said he was quite impressive. He left before I did. He was all in a spitting rage and he might've taken my parents' words the wrong way. He started talking about "waiting by the snare", and I took that to mean he might've gone to get a weapon in anticipation that you might come back for me."

"…I was actually planning to do that," Jerec revealed, startled by the revelation. "He's smart."

"You're wonderful," Melanie complimented with a small smile. "I knew you would. But yes, Raphael is a clever man. I don't know if he'd chase you all the way here, but I knew I had to warn you and that I might never get another chance to go after you."

"Hm, that does make sense. We'll see, I suppose."

"Indeed…"

Another stretching second followed as Jerec once more found himself embroiled in confusion. He didn't want to lose Melanie. Quite the opposite, in fact, for his heart leapt at the realization that she was here and still loved him in spite of everything. Yet, he also knew that the danger to her would grow every step she took with him on his journey. Taking her back to Rivertown would be a fool's errand if the townsfolk were expecting him to return, and turning back at all might very well mean running headlong into pursuers. Raphael might eventually tire of waiting and could've had the presence of mind to remember just where Jerec said he would be going when he'd overheard the two lovers. Finding a way to get Melanie to the comparative safety of the Greil Mercenaries was tempting, but it would take far too much time. Could Tauroneo's household protect her? The old general surely would, but what if his servants had different ideas?

The lancer had no answers, and yet when he faced Melanie once more, those grim questions were wiped away by the radiance of her smile and adoration in her eyes. Though he already knew she had chosen to be with him, in spite of everything that entailed, he was no less amazed. He might've tried to put into words what that meant to him, what she meant to him, but she silenced him when she lunged forward and captured his lips with her own.

"I still wish you hadn't come, but you're here," Jerec whispered as he briefly drew back before leaning in to lavish her neck. "And it's too dangerous to send you back. I'll have to keep you with me so you'll be safe. But we'll also have to avoid attracting too much attention to ourselves. A lot of people here didn't appreciate my change of heart, and you're a Crimean. One wrong move would mean the end for us both."

"Right, I will be careful," Melanie ironically promised between lusty moans.

"Good. But…"

"Hm?"

"I know I shouldn't let you stay, that I should find a way to send you someplace safe, if I actually knew where that might be. But I…am happy to see you again."

"Oh, Jerec, me too!"

At this, their lips met once more. Melanie leaned against a wall, filthy from neglect, wrapping her arms around Jerec's shoulders as she drew him in, reveling in the sensation of his broad, muscular form pressing against her. Jerec, his own mind clouded with desire, thrust his tongue past the threshold of their melded lips, probing the inside of her mouth with a building intensity. It might've gone further than that, too far, in fact, if the pair wasn't suddenly roused by the sound of chuckling coming from behind them.

The pair sprang apart and whirled to see a soldier, a bit younger than Jerec though his eyes were much older than the rest of his face. The lancer, however, was far more preoccupied with the rather…compromising position they'd been found in.

Is this what Ike went through with Elincia? he wondered, somewhat shaken at how he'd lost control. Another minute and…

"Not exactly the first place that springs to mind when I want to get busy with a lady," the soldier said with a snicker.

Though there was nary a hint of maliciousness in the soldier's tone, his words served to drive home just how little Jerec had to offer Melanie. She may have had faith in him, but it was hard to share that conviction with the knowledge that she'd left a comfortable home and a supportive family to follow him to a rubbish strewn corner of a decrepit trading post in a country that would happily hang both of them. Something of his displeasure must've shown on the lancer's face, for the soldier's expression softened a bit, almost as though he understood Jerec's frustration…

…though, hopefully he didn't understand it too well.

"Best you could do, under the circumstances?" he wondered, with a hint of empathy.

Perhaps he'd assumed that Jerec and Melanie were a pair of impoverished youths, surely a common enough sight after Daein's defeat in the Mad King's War and the Begnion occupation. The soldier didn't look familiar to Jerec and thankfully didn't seem to recognize him due to the shadows cast by the buildings.

All he saw was a pair of amorous but impoverished vagrants…which, Jerec reflected sadly, wasn't far from the truth. Still, perhaps the soldier had been in that same place not long ago, for understanding shone on his features and to Jerec's astonishment, he fished out an iron key and tossed it to the lancer.

"What's this?" Jerec wondered, deliberately adding a lisp to his voice as a precaution.

"The key to my room at the Raven and Rat," the soldier answered. "The timetable on my orders was moved up and I have to set out at once, but that raggedy arse of an innkeeper wouldn't refund my last day. Since the bed and board between now and tomorrow morning has already been paid for, might as well go to someone who needs it.

"Oh, no! I couldn't possibly—" Jerec sputtered, so astonished by this generosity that he nearly forgot to disguise his voice.

"I insist!" the soldier affirmed, and then his tone took on a sly edge. "Now, how about you take your lady someplace a bit cleaner and show her a good time."

With that, the soldier winked and walked off. Once he was gone, Jerec, through sheer force of will, managed to meet Melanie's gaze, his face red as a beet.

Melanie didn't look much better, her cheeks going pink as well after hearing the overly candid soldier's words…and pondering the unsettling images they conjured.

"A bit forward, but he seemed nice enough!" Melanie noticed, a hint of smugness in her words. "I knew there were good people here!"

"To be honest, that came as a bit of a surprise to me too," Jerec admitted. "Daeins have always valued strength and self-reliance, so someone going out of their way to help a pair of vagrants is a bit uncommon outside of the clergy. I can't say I'm complaining, though. He likely just ensured we'd have a roof over our heads tonight."

"So, Daein is different that you remember?"

"Something's changed, I just found that out, but I've only been here an hour. Might be a while before I really know. As for Daein, I do remember them being a hard-nosed bunch. Hatred for…certain outsiders might run deep in a lot of places, but amongst themselves, the Daeins can be kind and generous when they want to. But they're a hot-blooded bunch. They have to be to survive in a land like this, especially after the wars, but it comes at a cost. They're rash and quick to blame others for their problems, which is part of the reason I left. Many of them aren't very open-minded either, I learned that the hard way. I've always hoped this would change…at least a little bit. And maybe it has? I don't know."

"I see… I hope so too."

Before Jerec could say anything else, his stomach grumbled thunderously. Melanie couldn't help but giggle.

"Sounds like someone's hungry!" she said.

"Eh heh, yeah… I actually haven't eaten much since I woke this morning," Jerec admitted.

"What? That's foolish! Jerec, you should've eaten! Let's go get a meal right now."

"Oh, of course. That's what I was doing before you found me."

"…Ah, sorry about that."

With that, the two left the alley and proceeded to the Raven and Rat. Jerec pulled his hood back up again as they went inside, praying to Ashunera that he wouldn't be recognized. Though the unexpected charity had him wondering just whether this was the same country he'd left behind so long ago, he was reluctant to risk Melanie for the sake of his curiosity. Word of his change of heart had incensed quite a few, and both he and Melanie would be in dire peril if they ran afoul of any of the people that hated him for leaving. Jerec easily remembered how harshly the Daeins took his departure when he first left. Many of them called him a traitor or a deserter, but also heaped on such vitriol like "disgrace to your father" and "sub-human loving scum." The former had hurt the most, though Jerec had wondered sometimes if his father would've approved at what he'd done. At times, he believed that Bryce was more likely to have accepted it. He hadn't been like many other Daeins, and according to Ike, he'd been an honorable and worthy opponent.

Jerec doubted that Bryce would've approved of the hatred towards Ike and Crimea which had become so pervasive after the wars. And though his father's death still pained him and he pined for Bryce's wisdom now more than ever, he also knew that his father was the last person who would've wanted his son wallowing in grief when there was so much riding on Jerec's young shoulders.

Right now, all he and Melanie had to rely upon was each other, and that would have to be enough.

The Raven and Rat Inn and Tavern was everything Jerec had expected…

…which, unfortunately, wasn't much.

Though it had likely once been a pristine establishment, it had clearly gone downhill when Ashnard's pre-war decrees had crushed any chance of travelling merchants crossing its doorstep. Now, it was little more than a foul smelling watering hole beneath a foul looking flophouse.

If I was that soldier, I'd have checked a day early too, Jerec mused.

Still, Jerec supposed this place was at least a step up from bedding down outdoors during Daein's cold nights. The innkeeper, who lived up to Jerec's unflattering expectations, let them into the tavern once they showed him the key, though both could sense his hostile gaze upon them and the promise that overstaying their welcome invited violence.

"I can think of worse places than this for a first date, but not many," Jerec admitted unhappily as they found their table.

"Well then, it's a good thing this isn't our first date," Melanie replied.

It took Jerec a moment to realize she'd been talking about sharing lunch in Rivertown, when Jerec had belatedly realized the true depths of his growing attraction for Melanie and why her engagement to Raphael galled him so. Still, recalling their chatty waiter having sniffed out the truth and how he'd teased them over it tugged at the corners of Jerec's mouth.

"That's more like it," Melanie opined, a grin dawning on her face as well. "It's good to see you loosen up a bit."

"Not an easy thing to do," the lancer admitted, laying one hand atop hers. "But it does help to have the right company."

As the words passed his lips, he was struck by the truth behind them. Melanie's arrival did mean that they were both in greater danger, and yet he somehow felt better knowing that she was there and that their uncertain future hadn't changed the way she felt about him. Indeed, he wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't come or if she'd changed her mind. And yet, even slogging through the refuse of this decrepit slum hadn't made her reconsider her choice to remain at his side.

Apparently, Melanie was made of sterner stuff than some stray garbage. And her iron will drew him in every bit as much as the entrancing pools of dark liquid coral staring back at him.

"Are you listening to me?" she said, sounding a bit put out.

"Oh!" Jerec spluttered. "Sorry. I was…well…"

Melanie must've guessed the words what were caught in his throat, for she glanced away and flushed slightly. Well acquainted with Melanie as a strong and independent woman, the sight of her bashfulness brought a chuckle to the lancer's lips, though this was promptly choked away when Melanie fixed him with a credible imitation of a glare.

"Okay, okay!" Jerec said hurriedly, holding up both hands defensively. "I'm sorry. So you were saying?"

"Well, before you started leering at me," Melanie began, though an illicit giggle escaped her, "I asked where we're going next."

"Well," Jerec began, once the tightness in his throat had faded. "For now, we need to reach General Tauroneo. His mansion is in Nevassa, Daein's capital, and we'll need at least a few days to get there. During that journey, I'd best show you a few tricks I've learned that'll help keep us alive. While I was with the army, I was trained to hunt, forage, fish, and other skills to survive out in the wilderness, so I'd be able to survive if I was separated from my unit or if we were cut off from supply lines. That's what kept me alive even though I haven't had a home since just after the Mad King's War. So, if you're going to stay with me, you'll need to learn."

"I can handle it. Besides, I've been told I can spear a tasty boar."

"Hope you've stayed in practice. Anyway, there is one thing we ought to consider. I do know that Tauroneo has my next lead to finding my half-brother. Or half-sister, he didn't say which. But I have no idea where I'll need to go next or how long it will take. And it'll be much harder to travel unnoticed in Nevassa. I had been thinking that it might be best if you stayed with Tauroneo and-"

Whatever else Jerec had been about to say was lost when Melanie snatched him by the wrist with astonishing strength.

"Not. A. Chance," she intoned, her words knife-edged.

"Please, hear me out," the lancer insisted, wincing slightly when Melanie squeezed his wrist. Hard. "There's no way of knowing how long it'll take me to track down my half-sibling. Even if Tauroneo can tell me where he or she is, it might take days or even weeks to get there. I'd feel better knowing you were someplace safe, in case…anything went wrong. Besides, I'd trust Tauroneo to keep you safe as much as I'd trust Ike."

"I'm sure he appreciates the vote of confidence, but there's no way in hell that I'm letting you leave me behind again. I don't care about the risks and dangers, I decided that much when I chose to follow you, and I want to see this through to the end."

Here, Melanie paused and her glaring eyes misted slightly.

"After you were run out of Rivertown, I had no idea if I'd ever see you again," she went on, her words so soft Jerec had to lean in to hear them. "I couldn't bear going through that again. I love you."

The lancer had half a mind to insist, but the rest of him was touched by her words. Besides, if she'd managed to trail him all the way over the border, maybe she could handle herself during the search. He did have a great deal to teach her, and only so much time to do it, but just as he had gambled that she could accept him in spite of his past, maybe he should take the chance that she was up to the challenge.

"I suppose if I refuse, you'll just track me down again?" he guessed.

"Why, you are learning!" Melanie jested in reply.

"Alright, fine. But no complaining once we get going. Whatever bed you're sleeping in here might be the last you'll have for days, and I doubt it'll impress."

The fare certainly didn't, for at that moment, a dour-faced waiter delivered the pair two bowls of stew.

Jerec didn't know what kind of stew it was, and he frankly didn't want to know.

At Melanie's suggestion, he added in a pinch of the spices she'd insisted on buying him back in Rivertown and to his amazement, the heady granules caused the fare to go from revolting to tolerable. Still, Jerec's chivalrous side was tied in knots when the pair belatedly discovered that the room they were expected to share had only one bed. The lancer had been about to suggest he take a blanket and try to find a section of the tattered rug that wasn't moth-eaten, but Melanie wouldn't have that.

"There's no sense in you waking up sore and tired when we have such a long journey ahead," she pointed out. "Besides, slogging through the wilderness seems an odd place to be worrying about propriety."

When Jerec's only reply was a nervous tugging at his collar, Melanie shook her head in nigh-comical frustration.

"Oh, fine!" she pouted. "Let's try this."

So saying, she pulled aside the two sheets and the blanket and climbed in, then she pulled aside the upper sheet and blanket, inviting Jerec in but keeping a layer between them. Noting Jerec's surprise, she rolled her eyes and snickered.

"And people say men are the practical sex," she groused. "Just get over here and try to get some sleep. There's still a barrier between us, and I trust you not to go too far."

That makes one of us, Jerec mused. And "practical sex"? That choice of words has to be incidental. It has to be, right? Right?!

Somehow, Jerec forced himself to climb into bed, though sleep was just about the last thing on his mind…in more ways than one.

Was this what Ike had gone through with Elincia, his desire for the woman he loved warring with the knowledge that losing control could have terrible consequences? Granted, Melanie was no unlikely queen who might be toppled from her throne by a scandal, but both of them had much they could lose if he gave into the gleam of her eyes, the scent of her plum hair, and the supple curves of her lithe form.

He remembered how he'd been swept away by her in that filthy alcove and now, with her so enticingly close, the sheet separating them seemed a flimsy barrier indeed. Still, though Jerec's customary reserve was strained to the limit, he did not truly regret that she was here. Though Melanie, likely more weary from her journey than she let on, kissed Jerec good night and dropped off to sleep, the lancer remained awake for some time, mesmerized by how her hair caught the moonlight and the swell of her breasts as she drew breath.

At long last, he was no longer alone. And however long it might take, he would make sure that the future she'd decided to pursue at his side would be a happy one.

Jerec still didn't know how he'd managed to fall asleep with his heart pounding with desire for Melanie, but he must have…

…or at least, that was what Melanie had claimed when she resorted to pinching his nose shut to rouse him the next morning.

"You could've just called out, or shaken me," he pointed out, still short of breath from his near-suffocation.

"I did try that…for ten minutes," Melanie retorted. "I swear, you sleep like a rock. I was going to try dumping snow over your head next."

The lancer couldn't help but blush, though the crimson in his cheeks deepened when Melanie turned to the window and began to admire the snow beyond.

The only nightdress she'd packed didn't cover much of the back, and it pulled rather tight about her shapely buttocks.

"We never get this much snow in Rivertown," she gushed, sounding as young as she truly was. "It's so beautiful out there."

"Trust me, the novelty will wear off if you're caught out of doors and end up freezing your butt off…" Jerec replied, mortified as he belatedly realized just what he'd said. "Er…I mean…"

Melanie, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, turned and strode towards her blushing lover, exaggerating her stride so that her sculpted legs peeked out as she approached.

"And here I thought you were such a gentleman," she quipped teasingly, adding a sway to her hips that caused some very ungentlemanly thoughts to cross Jerec's mind.

Once Melanie had laid a hand on each of his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss, Jerec's better judgment was straining to hold him back from doing something they might both regret. Thankfully, Melanie seemed to understand the effect she had on him, even if she did seem to enjoy it, and quickly vanished behind a dressing screen to get changed.

"We'd best not waste any time," the lancer choked out, deliberately averting his gaze from the sight of the disrobing silhouette. "I don't like the looks of that innkeeper, and the snow will likely get heavier as the day goes on."

"It does look pretty chilly outside," Melanie replied. "I guess you're right."

"Uh huh. I hope you brought warm clothes."

"I actually did, mostly without even thinking because…well, I had certain other things on my mind. Hee hee."

"Of course you did," Jerec replied, playfully rolling his eyes.

"Oh stop it," Melanie retorted with a chuckle. "But it's lucky I have warm things to wear. I'd hate to force you to delay your trip again just to help me get proper clothes."

Once Melanie was dressed, the couple quickly took stock of their supplies. Apart from Jerec's lance, armor, and supply of food, he also had a set of carving knifes for making improvised tools, as well as skinning and carving whatever he caught after a day's hunting, as well as some simple fishing gear, some snares, a bundle of kindling, a cloak, and several waterskins. Apart from a few heavier dresses and her nightwear, Melanie luckily had the presence of mind to take a lantern, a flask of oil, some provisions, a set of cutlery, a pair of heavy boots, one of her father's cloaks, which was so baggy on her frame that she might've been wearing a tent, a slingshot, and some rocks.

"You're not likely to kill anything bigger than a bird or rabbit with those," Jerec said as he pointed to the modest weapons. "Still, every little bit helps. You a good shot?"

"I used to shoot everything that moved with that thing when I was a little kid," Melanie remarked, a whiff of nostalgia in her tone. "It drove my parents up the wall, so they forbade me from using it...not that it stopped me from shooting at the livestock when no one was looking."

"And you've been saying I'm the naughty one. Still, this should keep us for a bit. I can teach you how to get more while we're on the road. So, let's get going."

As the pair gratefully left the trading post, Jerec lost no time in teaching Melanie every trick he knew. He taught her how to fashion a hunting spear, bow, and arrows by selecting the right wood, carving it, and then "baking" it over a fire to harden the wood so that it would kill her chosen prey. He also taught her how to identify wild fruits, berries, nuts, and mushrooms, how to gauge if they were ready to be harvested and whether they were safe to eat. Having grown up around livestock, farmers, and fishermen, she already knew how to fish and to carve the creatures she brought to the fire, as well as how to smoke the meat so it would keep longer. She'd quickly figured out how to use her slingshot to bring down smaller creatures like squirrels and birds, though she made a point of ignoring rabbits. Even knowing Melanie was a quick study, Jerec was amazed.

"Wow," the lancer murmured as he watched Melanie prove her claim about being a skilled boar hunter. "I knew you were a fast learner, but you are incredible."

"Why, thank you," Melanie replied as she began carving the beast. "Still, it does help to have such a good teacher."

"Don't sell yourself short. Back in the army, it took me two weeks before I brought back anything worth eating, and you just needed a few hours. Not to mention that boar looks like it'll be delicious! Where have you been all my life?"

Despite the inevitable ribbing about the best way to a man's heart being his stomach, Melanie's face took on a faraway expression. Jerec had been about to retract the question, but she silenced him with an upraised palm.

"Remember the books in the guest room, back…at my parent's house?" she said.

Jerec nodded, though he was all too conscious of how she'd been avoiding using the word "home" whenever Rivertown came up.

"Well, some of those books were about hunting, foraging, fishing, and such," she went on. "My uncles all loved tromping through the woods when they'd had too much of city folk and needed to get away from it all. I never got to go with them, but they always left behind some of the books they'd studied. When I realized I might have to do something...drastic to get out of marrying Raphael, I began reading them. I hadn't gone through with it until now. I guess having something to run from wasn't enough by itself."

Here, she paused and regarded Jerec with a smile that gleamed like snow under the sun's rays.

"I guess what I really needed was something to run to...or with," she said happily.

"I know what you mean," Jerec admitted, his heart aglow that she didn't hold their circumstances against him. "Well, sort of. I'm not sure if it was a dream or a visitation or whatever. But after I was wounded, before I woke up, I saw a laguz shaman who I'd met while helping Ike hunt for Ettard. Well, while I was trying to help him, anyway."

Despite Melanie giggling at his self-deprecation, Jerec smiled and continued.

"It was strange. Do you remember how, in the Goddess War, it was autumn one moment and then winter the next? And how you felt very, very stiff?" At Melanie's surprised nod, he continued. "While I was with the Greil Mercenaries, just before coming to Rivertown, they told me what that was about. They said nearly all of Tellius' people had been turned to stone. I think I saw what that must've looked like, because I was surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of statues, all of beorc and laguz, frozen in the middle of a battle."

"That's incredible!" Melanie gasped out. "How does this shaman fit in, though?"

"Apparently, she chanced upon my dream while she was meditating. She either let herself in or was pulled in. Either way, I was glad for a familiar face. It took me a while to understand why, but being the only person left after everyone else had turned to stone? I swear, I can't even remember being more frightened."

Here, he paused and regarded Melanie with earnest adoration.

"I'd thought I was inured to how solitary a life I led," he continued. "But being there, whether it was what really happened or just a metaphor my brain came up with after losing all that blood, proved me wrong. I guess that's part of the reason I became fond of Rivertown in spite of...well, everything. It may sound childish, but I realized how much I missed having friends and neighbors, and I didn't want to be alone anymore."

He'd half expected Melanie to snicker at this. He wouldn't have minded, since her laughter was delightful to the ear, but he was once more surprised when she scooted over to him and laid a hand on his.

"Well, if I have anything to say about it, you'll never be alone again," she affirmed, leaning in to kiss him.

With some mutual reluctance, the pair broke away, roasted the boar, and ate their supper. After their meal, they smoked a portion of the remaining boar meat and then Jerec dragged the carcass a fair distance from their fire so that, hopefully, any predators lurking about would find it more appetizing than the comparatively scrawny beorc.

"So, what is Daein like, really?" Melanie asked after a few moments spent stoking the campfire. "I know what people say about it. These days, who doesn't? But now that we're here, I want to know the truth."

"I'm hoping we won't be here long," Jerec said, perhaps a bit too sharply. "It would probably be best if we finished our mission and then left. I'm not sure where we'd go, but staying here is probably a bad idea."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"You mean besides that we'd likely be hung if anyone realized who we are? Well, I have a lot of bad memories of this place. After my change of heart about Ike and the laguz, I became…rather unpopular. A lot of people said a lot of things you can't just "take back". And I doubt this place has changed much."

Melanie regarded him pensively for a moment, and Jerec got the distinct impression that she was unconvinced.

"What is it?" he asked when his curiosity overwhelmed him.

"You sound pretty sure that Daein hasn't changed," Melanie began. "But you haven't been back here in years. And you saw one big change when that soldier let us have his room at the Raven and Rat."

"Not much of a favor, letting us stay in that pesthole."

"And yet, when you lived here, giving even that much to a pair of vagrants was rare. And there's someone from here who you said you'd trust with my safety the way you'd trust Ike."

"Yeah, just one someone."

"It seems you're as harsh a critic of this place as the people back in Rivertown. I know you have good reasons, but is it so hard to believe this place hasn't changed in the past six years?"

"Frankly, yes, I find that very hard to believe."

"Back then, people said that about peace between the beorc and the laguz."

That rejoinder stilled Jerec's tongue for a moment, but he still nursed cool skepticism that the same people who'd heaped such vitriol on him would be any different. So, more to change the subject than anything else, he decided to offer a more practical answer to Melanie's question.

"At first glance, it can seem rather like Crimea," Jerec began, conscious of the irony behind the words. "You've got your towns and villages, your blacksmiths and merchants, and what-all. There aren't as many farms, at least in the regions we'll be traveling. The only truly arable land is in the southern territories, such as Talrega, where most of the farms used to be."

""Used to be"?" Melanie echoed, perplexed.

"Well, back when the Mad King's War first began, the only real opposition to Ashnard came from Ike and the Greil Mercenaries. Gallia's leadership was sorely divided for much of the war, so they assumed a purely defensive stance while the other laguz nations, either willingly or not, stayed neutral. All that changed when Begnion sided with Ike and the Crimean Liberation Army was formed. That blindsided...well, everybody, I guess. Most of Daein expected Begnion to side with them if the laguz nations rallied to Crimea's defense, which might well explain why the laguz waited until after the counter-invasion was underway before they joined Ike's army. But I digress. Anyhow, since Daein's southern flank was open, and Ike had caused jaws to drop from Sienne to Melior when he took Tor Garen, those Daeins on the homefront became scared and desperate."

"I've seen what that combination can bring about," Melanie added, feelingly.

They both had, so Jerec didn't bother asking her to elaborate. Instead he continued.

"When Ike's army reached Talrega, General Petrine ordered that the floodgates in the area be opened. At best, Ike would've lost a sizable portion of his force if the floodwaters hit them as they were crossing. At worst, they'd be delayed waiting for the water to recede enough for them to press on. It was a desperate move, and caused a lot of contention. The unit of wyvern riders that was stationed there nearly mutinied and the act drove a wedge between the military and the civilians that still persisted when I left."

"What happened next?"

"The same thing that seems to happen damned near every time things are at their worst: Ike and his army saved the day. Well, mostly. Ike managed to close the floodgates, but a lot of harm was done by then. The nearby village, and a huge portion of Daein's arable land, was decimated. I was stationed in Crimea at the time, so this news didn't reach me until later. When I heard, I asked Ike. It really impressed me that he'd go out of his way to help the citizens of a country he was at war with. His unprejudiced heart wouldn't stand for innocents being put in danger. He even offered some food and gold to them, but they refused and practically spat in his face. If more Daeins realized or knew just what he did that day, I'm sure they'd be calling him a hero rather than a villain."

"Oh, wow! Yes, I completely agree."

"I bet. And yet, they still didn't respect him even after he'd routed that tribe of renegade wolf laguz that tried to usurp Daein not long after the war either."

"That's a shame… They just seem to be even more stubborn than the people of Rivertown."

"Yeah, that's for sure. These civilians versus Rivertown? I'd hate for that clash to happen. Might be fun to watch, though."

"Heh, I can also agree on that one."

The pair tossed around a few quips about just what a clash between the hardnosed Daeins and the stiff necked folk of Rivertown would look like, their suppositions growing steadily more ridiculous until, after one about a staring contest dragging on for over a week, the lancer sobered slightly.

"It's kind of ironic, how similar they sound when we talk about them like this," he remarked. "I wonder if that's why Rivertown grew on me so much, because it reminded me of home. And what home could've been if things were a bit…different."

"Why, Jerec," Melanie chimed, as though she'd scored some victory, "is that something like homesickness I hear from you?"

"Okay, laugh it up. Still, I'll admit that the Daein people have a lot of drive and dedication. A thirst to excel. I know, because I was the same...and still am, to an extent. But there are days I wish all that drive, and all those lives, weren't so badly spent."

"I understand. And I'll admit, part of me is still angry about what Daein did to my family. But I just can't bring myself to blame every last one of them, not when I have proof right in front of me that there are good Daeins out there."

Jerec hoped that the firelight might disguise how he blushed at her praise, but Melanie's giggling promptly told him otherwise.

"Well, getting back to what we were talking about earlier," the lancer continued. "There just might be Daeins around that aren't bad people and just want to get on with their lives. Most of them didn't have much to do with the wars, though. Not everyone who contributes does so from the front lines, after all."

"Yeah, that's true," Melanie replied, and Jerec found himself curious as to how she'd passed the wars. "And I bet some of them didn't support the invasion of Crimea."

"Oh, that's for sure, especially after the war. Some folks wondered what good it would do them, and then when the war was lost…well, you know."

"Yeah…"

The two lapsed into a stretching silence until, perhaps coaxed by Melanie's interest in dissecting Jerec's stormy history with his former homeland and her conviction that Daein had its redeeming qualities, the lancer found himself blurting out more.

"It still doesn't make sense to me," he admitted, somehow not surprised that Melanie almost seemed to be expecting these words. "Daein fighting against the Begnion occupation made perfect sense to me. Heck, part of me wondered if Daein might become a better place afterwards. But Daein turning around and siding with Begnion? I still can't wrap my head around it. The best theory I came up with was that Begnion viewed the consolidation of the laguz nations and their budding alliance with the "colony" of Crimea as a threat to their power and decided that they'd rather have a partner in Daein instead of another enemy. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," and all that."

"Do you really believe that?" Melanie asked, her tone suggesting she didn't. "That Begnion had bigger fish to fry and Daein was just up to their old tricks?"

"Honestly? That's all I ever came up with, and even that theory has a few holes."

"Maybe while you're here, you should ask."

"Just…like that?"

"This friend of yours, General Tauroneo, sounds like someone who's likely to know. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't asked him already. The Goddess War has been over for more than a year. Even if you didn't want to come back here, couldn't you have written him?"

"Well…"

Here, Jerec paused and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Actually, that letter from him that started this whole errand?" he began. "Well, that's the first time we've contacted each other since the Mad King's War. Since then, I haven't written or spoken to him in over five years."

"What? Why not? Didn't you say he was a friend of your family?" Melanie reminded, her brow furrowed with concern.

"He was. Still is, I hope. But…during the Mad King's War, he defected to Crimea. I learned this just before I was sent to petition Crimea for help against the wolves. I was...well, I was a different man back then, and I was angry. I didn't bother asking for his side of the story, I just felt so betrayed. Even after I met Ike, and I began to wonder if Tauroneo had good reasons, I couldn't bring myself to face him. I said some harsh things about his decision. Not to his face, but I'd be surprised if he didn't find out anyway."

Reminded of yet another example of his past shortcomings, the lancer inwardly fumed at his own foolishness. Before he could sink too far into his grim reverie, Melanie cupped his cheek with one hand and titled his gaze to meet her eyes. For what felt like the thousandth time, the expected reproach in those coral orbs was nowhere to be seen and with an indrawn breath, he stifled the voice of regret and pressed on.

"Well, like I said, I never got Tauroneo's side of the story," Jerec admitted. "Maybe I should when I see him. I hadn't really taken the time to think over why he'd joined Crimea and then Begnion. But now, I'm curious about him and the others."

""Others?"" Melanie echoed, the barest trace of smugness seeping into her tone. "What others?"

"Well, there were other Daeins who'd joined Ike during the Mad King's War. You've probably heard of the Dawn Brigade. Well, many of their members are those same Daeins. Besides Tauroneo, there's the wyvern rider Jill, the myrmidon Zihark, the mage Ilyana, and Prince Consort Sothe. Well, he wasn't Prince Consort at the time, but still…"

When he saw Melanie's grin broaden and her smugness became as palpable as the greasy aroma of the roasted boar, Jerec's faded to a credible imitation of a resigned sigh.

But it was only an imitation.

He wasn't sure why, but her delight at evidence that she was right, that there were good Daeins, was strangely contagious. And whether he was coming around to her line of thinking or simply enjoyed seeing her happy, Jerec was well and truly infected.

"Okay, go ahead and say it," he said tonelessly.

"Say what?" Melanie asked, her feigned innocence making her sound childlike.

"What you've probably wanted to say ever since you learned I wasn't the only "good Daein" in the world," Jerec replied, raising his voice to a high and exaggerated effeminate pitch. ""Oh, I knew it! There are good Daeins. Jerec knows of a whole bunch of them! Vindication! Vindication, I say!""

"I don't sound like that!" Melanie spluttered, sounding almost affronted. Almost.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do—"

Jerec's last rejoinder was cut off when Melanie flung a handful of snow into his face, but the lancer merely burst into laughter at the normally composed Melanie's pinched expression.

"Well, I'm glad one of us is in a good mood," she said huffily. "You are an uncouth man to tease me so, and just for that, I'm calling dibs on the belly cuts."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Jerec replied, though he likely sounded anything but. "Anyhow, like I said, we'll be meeting General Tauroneo at his mansion in Nevassa."

"Could you tell me about him, Jerec? I'll be meeting this person too, I suppose, so I'm interested in knowing what he's like. Especially if you trust him so much."

"Heh, fair enough. Tauroneo actually used to be one of Daein's Four Riders as well."

"Wow, another Rider? You sure know some people! Hobnobbing with Riders, fighting alongside the Greil Mercenaries, rubbing elbows with a monarch or two."

"Rubbing elbows? If you're talking about Elincia, it felt more like I was chaperoning her and Ike. I swear, those two are a sweet couple, but making sure they're doing the mission instead of each other felt like a full time job. And if you meant Sothe and Micaiah, they weren't prince consort and queen back then. And they were trying to kill me."

"Oh, stop complaining," Melanie chastised jokingly. "But I don't remember Tauroneo being one of the four mentioned during the Mad King's War."

"That's because he wasn't. Ashnard didn't think he deserved to keep the title, the scum," Jerec uttered angrily. "The Riders changed based on who Ashnard considered his most impressive soldiers, and Tauroneo was removed in favor of one of the Riders from the war. I think it might've been Sir Bertram, but I'm not sure. That riled me up, because Tauroneo was like a second father to me. And since he and my father were both Riders and good friends, it was reassuring to know they had each other's backs."

Jerec felt a hint of a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he recalled the two men. Though he'd had an inkling of how the bond of trust between the pair made the two men far stronger than either could be apart, he suspected he hadn't truly understood until he himself had fought shoulder to shoulder with those he'd happily entrust with his life. Some were from his old unit in the Daein army, though he had no idea how many yet lived and doubted they'd welcome his company. To a lesser extent, he'd known that same camaraderie with the Crimean irregulars. Though he dared not entrust them with his true identity, many of them, like himself, were people who'd made some unwise choices in the past and hoped to make a fresh start or sought atonement while fighting in defense of their home. It had been with the Greil Mercenaries, however, that Jerec had felt nearest to home in his life of exile. Until he met Melanie, that is.

"Tauroneo comes from a long line of soldiers, just like my father and I," the lancer went on. "And here's another irony for you. He actually married a Crimean woman he'd met during one of the border skirmishes. Before the Mad King's War, skirmishes between Crimea and Daein seemed to happen whenever things got too quiet. Still, the two were happily married for a long time and had two sons."

Jerec had half expected Melanie to be crowing this latest vindication, but to his surprise, her brow had furrowed and she looked almost worried.

"What do you mean by "were?" she wondered, and Jerec nearly kicked himself.

"Ah, sorry," he replied. "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. Still, to answer your question, she left him after one of their sons was seriously injured in combat. The elder son, Josh, was assigned to Ashnard's personal guard, which was way beyond everyone's highest expectations. But when he joined Ashnard in a battle, he came back grievously injured. As far as I know, he never walked again."

"That's terrible."

"Yeah. I only heard bits and pieces about it, since I was much younger than Josh and had only met him once or twice. But I know that Tauroneo's wife was horrified. She begged Tauroneo to leave the army, but how do you convince a man to give up generations of proud tradition that he'd practically poured his whole life into?"

Melanie didn't answer, but Jerec could guess at her train of thought. After all, Tauroneo wasn't the first father whose devotion to tradition had unhappy consequences.

"When Tauroneo wouldn't listen, and started to train his younger son as a soldier, his wife decided she'd had enough," Jerec went on. "She took both sons and left him. As far as I know, they haven't been in contact since."

"Oh, that's sad…" Melanie opined feelingly. "I think his wife was a little hasty there, but I can certainly understand her feelings. Seeing someone you love suffer like that is terrible."

"Yeah, that's true. Tauroneo always regretted what happened. And thankfully, one of Ike's guys convinced him to try reaching out to his family again."

That last bit caused Melanie to arch one of her delicate eyebrows. Jerec considered trying to turn the tables with his earlier, butchered imitation of Melanie's enthusiastic tones, but her coral eyes drawing narrow told him she'd gleaned his intent.

"Don't even think about it, buster," she warned, but promptly grinning. "But you say those Daeins from the Dawn Brigade had friends among the Greil Mercenaries?"

"So, you can cry "Vindication! Vindication, I say!" but I can't?" Jerec asked, sounding pained. "That doesn't seem fair. So, maybe I won't tell you."

The lancer gave Melanie the cold shoulder for all of thirty seconds until, after she'd offered him a belly cut by way of apology, he relented.

"You know Rolf, the younger archer of the Greil Mercenaries?" he asked. "Claims he's a prodigy archer, lime green hair, about knee high."

"Jerec," Melanie intoned sternly.

"Okay, he's waist high."

"Jerreeec."

"Okay, fine, he's about yea big. Anyhow, Tauroneo briefly mistook Rolf for Josh, which got Rolf's curiosity up. Rolf eventually drew out the whole story, and encouraged Tauroneo to try and get back in touch with his wife. When Rolf told me this, while he and I were swapping stories before coming to Rivertown, he said it was because of how he'd lost his own father. Rolf knew he couldn't have his dad back, but he felt that Tauroneo's sons didn't deserve that same pain since their father was still alive and missed them."

"He sounds like a sweet little guy," Melanie opined.

"And here you were lecturing me for making cracks about his height. Still, don't tell him about that. He's really sensitive. And more to the point, he's a helluva shot."

"And yet, you're teasing him behind his back. Are you incorrigible, a masochist, or just a dolt? Still, that is really touching. It makes me wish I had a chance to talk to the Greil Mercenaries at length before they left Rivertown. So, what about the others?"

"Well, Jill the wyvern rider was good friends with Mist, Ike's younger sister. She also became good friends with Lethe, a cat warrior from Gallia. Yeah, I know, ironies abound. The mage Ilyana also bonded with Mia, a trueblade who works with the Greil Mercenaries on and off. Gatrie, their heavy foot knight, also flirted with her for a while, until she cleaned him out. It's expensive taking out a girl who eats enough for five men."

"Ouch."

"She also got along with Mordecai, a tiger laguz from Gallia. And Zihark the myrmidon befriended Muarim, a tiger laguz who was once a slave in Begnion."

As Jerec's words trailed off, he found himself mulling over them at greater length. Although he'd heard rumors about Daeins defecting to Crimea during the war, he'd given them little credence until the rumor of Tauroneo's defection had been confirmed. As he'd said to Melanie, he'd felt deeply betrayed and when further confirmation came in, he'd felt disgusted that one who would wear the armor of the proud army of Daein had turned their back on their brothers-in-arms and their king…

…and then, chance had allowed him to see just who they'd defected to, along with a clearer picture of just what they'd turned their backs on.

That had done much to solidify the lancer's budding respect for Ike, whose strength of conviction and charisma, not to mention his strong sense of right and wrong, had won over men and women who'd once sought his blood. And considering how Ike had changed the minds of other Daeins, including Jerec himself, the lancer found himself wondering at his earlier belief that the lands of his birth hadn't changed.

He honestly couldn't say that he shared Melanie's conviction that there were good people in Daein, but now, for the first time in years, he was mulling over the notion.

"Well," he spoke up after a long pensive silence. "I hope to hear about how things turned out, honestly. If Tauroneo did manage to patch things up with his wife, it could give him some more peace after…well, a lot of things, I suppose."

"Oh yeah, I agree. I hope it went well too," Melanie said. "So, I take it that he and Rolf are still friends? What about the rest?"

"I don't know. I didn't have a chance to ask Mist if she was still friends with Jill after…well, after Daein joined Begnion. And I learned not to ask Gatrie about his dating life. The hard way. As for Mia, she was away, so I couldn't ask her either. Still, now that you mention it, I'm curious myself. I've had a lot of questions about Daein and the Dawn Brigade, but it's like I forgot about them until I had to come back here. And now…I think I really want to know. I'd be surprised if I like the answers, but maybe it would give me some closure. And I should get Tauroneo's side of the story. I owe him that much."

A trace of a smile ghosted across the lancer's face as he recalled his old friend.

"After my mother's death, my father was in a bad way for quite some time," he went on. "Not that I was much better, though. But Tauroneo stuck by us through all of that. He was my mentor as I grew up and he also tried his best to help my father. I want to believe that Ike's father wanted to help as well, since they were all friends back then. But from what Ike himself has told me, it sounded like he had other priorities, although understandable ones."

He had been so lost in nostalgia that he'd let that last tidbit escape without even thinking about it. When he did pause, however, he saw Melanie's lower jaw creak open.

"Wait, Ike's father was a Daein general too?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"Oh yeah, he was," Jerec confirmed, giving a self-deprecating laugh at his loose tongue. "So, are you a prodigy of healing or interrogation?"

"I do many things well," Melanie paused there to take a bite of belly cut. "I'd call this more medium rare, though."

"I wouldn't add "comedian" to your list of trades if I were you. But yes. Greil, though he went by Gawain back then, was a Daein general. Yet another Rider, in fact. He and his wife, Elena, fled the kingdom after stealing Lehran's Medallion. They lived in Gallia for years after. In fact, Ike and Mist were born there. That little escapade caused a hell of an uproar in Nevassa. Ashnard dispatched trained assassins and offered huge rewards. And by "huge", I mean the sort that could buy a duchy, or at least a barony. But until the Black Knight killed Greil just after the war began, no one even got close."

"Whoa! Hee, hee. The same big hero Crimea loves and respects, the guy with the chest full of medals and who half the continent suspects will swoop in to save the day, just so happened to be of Daein parentage. That's pretty funny! And I can't even put into words how ironic that is."

"Ha, ha, yeah, that's quite true, isn't it?"

It was obvious to Jerec's eyes that, since Melanie had long nursed the conviction that there were good people in Daein, in spite of everything that had happened, he'd made himself a treasure trove of evidence to confirm her beliefs. And though he had a nagging feeling that stroking her ego might come back to bite him, he couldn't help but become entranced by the smile that crossed her features as his words proved her right again and again. In truth, Jerec himself wasn't as convinced, but he wanted to keep that smile in place as long as he could.

In such a hostile country, that smile might not be there tomorrow.

"So, what was Lehran's Medallion?" Melanie asked. "I'd never heard of it before, but it must've been pretty important, or pretty dangerous, if Ike's parents went to all that trouble to hide it from Ashnard."

"Frankly, I know little more than you do," the lancer admitted. "The Black Knight being involved in the search might've been a hint, but I know Ashnard was desperate to get it back. Every field officer in his army had a detailed description of it and orders that, if they did found it, they were to drop whatever they were doing and to take it to Ashnard immediately. The odd thing was those orders also said that no one was to touch it bare-handed under any circumstances and if they did, they were to be executed on the spot."

"What?! Why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. Apart from that, and that it must've been a helluva lot more than an old hunk of brass, I know very little about the whole thing. All I really know is that Lehran's Medallion was over eight hundred years old, was sacred to the Serenes heron laguz, that Mist carried it with her most of her life before returning it to the surviving heron royals, and that Ashnard needed it for his secret agenda."

"What was Ashnard's secret agenda?"

"Well, if I knew that, it wouldn't be much of a secret, now would it?"

Melanie rolled her eyes at that, but promptly fixed Jerec with a penetrating look.

"So, two Daeins," she began, pointedly, "one of the Four Riders and his wife, no less, learn about this mysterious and dangerous artifact that Ashnard needs to do who-knows-what. They don't leave it where it is, for king and country, and they don't take it to try and ransom it back either. Instead, they take it halfway across the continent to hide it and kept it safe for years. And all of that was on top of having to adopt new identities and start from scratch in another country, leaving behind everything they ever knew."

"That's…a good point," Jerec admitted, more than a bit struck at how a shift in his conscience had also driven him away from all that was familiar. "Still, I think I've had all the irony I can take for one day. The nearest town is too far to reach by dark, so we should try and find some shelter."