Light snow fell across the winter landscape as the small party trudged through the trees. Aside from the crunch of their armoured boots on the snow-dappled pine needles, the forest was eerily silent. Despite the serenity of the silent boughs and the easy, well-travelled path free from brush and debris, their march was arduous. All were sick and with no help, all would die. Their sacred vows twisted into a prison; their leashes killing them slowly.

Every muscle in Shannon's body ached. The pain in her head obliterating rational thought. There was only the voice. A whisper just too quiet to properly hear, the words just too indistinct to understand. But it was incessant; calling, teasing and never relenting.

Her hands started to shake. She tried to make a fist but couldn't will her fingers to curl. The spasms continued until they wracked her whole body. Pain flared and she dropped down to one knee. She felt hands grip her forearms.

"Come, sister" a man said kindly. "We have not far to go and they will help us. They have to help us" he added, but he sounded unsure. Then he eased her to her feet and she met his eyes; kind and blue, but she could see the pain and fear within. He was hurting too. She wondered if he also heard the voice. The man's arm encircled her armoured waist as he supported her weight on his left shoulder. He urged her forward and they trudged on.

Time passed vaguely on their sombre march. An hour? Two? She couldn't guess. It didn't matter.

She was dying.

The pain in her body was unbearable. Her stomach twisted and she collapsed to the ground heaving but there was nothing to throw up. She hadn't eaten in days despite their ample food stores. Anything she tried to eat was promptly vomited back up as her stomach rejected sustenance. Even drinking water was now impossible. There was only one one thing that could quench her and they didn't have it - they hadn't had it for a long time now. Days, weeks, she was unsure, but it was the only thing that could sustain her and without it she would perish.

They all would.

The man with the kind, sad eyes knelt before her. She felt like she knew him but his name was lost to her clouded mind.

"Leave me" she gasped between hitching breaths. "I cannot go on."

"No," the man replied, resolute. "We do not abandon our brothers and sisters." He took her hand in his. A faint hint of warmth between their armoured gloves. "You have the strength to do this. Find your faith. The Maker protects those who have sworn their lives to his service."

Shannon thought of the man they'd left in the copse at the bottom of the hill. 'Where was his protection?' He had collapsed and died despite his sacred oaths. Whether it was the withdrawal or the red poison that had killed him she was unsure. Either way, the Maker had failed him. And there were others. Names and faces escaped her muddled mind, but she knew they were more. Other brothers and sisters had perished on this journey - succumbing to the pain, or fear, or madness. The incessant whispering of the voice.

The man pulled her to her feet once again and hooked her arm over his shoulder. Another person appeared at her other side and did the same. Together the two of them supported her and they ushered her forward.

But she was alone now. Just the pain of each agonizing step and the persistent whispering of the voice. She could almost make out the words. If it were only a little louder, a little clearer. With nothing else to cling to she let her mind follow the voice. It danced out of reach, skittering into the dark recesses of her consciousness like a wheeling bird.

So close, yet always just out of reach.

They walked.

Shannon's mind was jolted by a sudden change in their physical state. They had stopped moving.

She could hear voices around her. Real voices. The man; the kind man with the sad eyes and the unshakable faith was arguing with someone. He stepped forward, releasing his grip on her. Unable to physically compensate for his sudden absence she stumbled. The person at her other side floundered, unable to take her weight unaided and they too released their grip. Shannon crashed to the ground, exhausted. Armour scraping against stones.

There was no need to try and rise, it would be futile. She was broken.

Snippets of the kind man's argument drifted into her consciousness over the constant hum of the whispering voice.

"...under orders not to let anyone in while…"

"...fucking dying here, can't you…"

"...commander said not to…"

"...know him! Get him out…"

There was a clang and the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Someone knelt by her side and placed an armoured hand on her cheek.

"Peace, sister. It won't be long now. Just some jumped-up gate guard being an ass. They'll let us in. "

She closed her eyes and prayed silently.