Hours later, a small party of mages and Rider scouts were assembling at the West gate that bridged into Tortall. Among them were Numair and Daine, an air of awkwardness between them following their brief argument. Cloud and Spots, their ponies, were laden with luggage for the journey, which would take three day's ride to Agrafief, the home of the Stone Tree nation, and the area blighted by the maddened Stormwing mage.
"You can still turn back, Daine." Numair muttered, edging his steed aside so that a young Rider could pass.
"You can too, but you won't." His wife replied, Cloud casting an icy look over at him.
"Please-" He began, but a commotion grew as the last member of their party arrived: Alanna. Clad in her travelling garments, as Daine and Numair were, she bore the expression of a person whose patience could only stretch so far.
She brushed away a Rider scout who attempted to address her, and rode up to the couple.
"You're sure about this, Daine?" She asked, exchanging a glance with Numair.
"I need to be here, Alanna. Besides, you'll need me to sense him."
The lady knight arched an eyebrow. "I doubt a mad Stormwing who is burning trees as we speak will be hard to find."
Daine sighed aggravatingly, and gave Cloud a light tap on her side with a boot. They moved away towards the front of the group, where she began to talk to her close Rider friend, Evin Larse.
"I tried to show her reason, but she was adamant." Numair moaned to the knight.
"She's strong headed. You can't tie her down."
"Too strong headed for her own good. If anything happens to her and the child-"
"Numair, don't think she's helpless just because she's expecting. She's still the best in Tortall with a bow."
"Is a bow any use against a mad mage?"
Alanna rolled her eyes. "You're here. You alone could kill the Stormwing; it's just that Jonathan hates to take risks."
At that moment, a Rider, his features lined with the experience of years, called out. He spurred his mount onwards, and the party followed. The air flooded with the sounds of hooves scuffing the dusty ground, the grunts of the ponies and horses, and the shifting of weaponry against their owner's sides.
A dust cloud followed the party as they rode from Tortall. Daine remained at the front, determined to pretend she wasn't scared that she'd made a bad decision.
"Hold still. I can't treat it otherwise." Numair was kneeled, dabbing the aqueous healing substance delicately on Daine's forearm. The wild mage had been inspecting her arrows for faults when one of the points had cut past her skin. Of course, Numair had swooped down on her in an instant ("I knew this was a mistake!"… "Think of the child!").
"You worry too much. It barely hurts." Daine hid her winces when the substance stung. Only the tenderness of her husband's touches soothed her.
"I worry for both of us, that's the problem-" The mage stopped when Daine brought a hand to her mouth, her chest heaving.
"Daine?" He asked worriedly, bringing his arm around her. A moment later, she gasped. Panting, she assured Numair, "I'm fine. Thayet warned me about it."
"Part of the pregnancy?"
"Yes. Great, isn't it?" She said sarcastically. Her husband placed the jar of the healing substance on the floor, and put a hand to her belly. He smiled, seeking the same pride that he felt, in Daine's eyes.
"I still can't believe it." He whispered, and leant in to nudge his wife's face with his nose.
"Neither can I." She returned the whisper, letting Numair's lips explore her face. Eventually they settled on her own ones, and they locked till the couple had to come up for air. Together, they lowered themselves onto the double bedspread within their tent. Numair blew the candles out, and returned his attention back to Daine.
The climate was still warm, and besides, they had each other to banish any cold that might try to creep upon them. As the moon tore through the frayed clouds with its white light, and the bats flitted through the air above the small, makeshift campsite, Daine and Numair drifted slowly into sleep, serenaded by the beating of each other's hearts, and the breaths that bathed their faces.
"I love you, Magelet." Numair whispered ever so quietly, watching his wife succumb to sleep.
Deep inside Daine's womb, their unborn child's heart beat in rhythm to its parents, and threads of both black and copper magic shivered across its frail, incomplete body. It continued to float through a state of impregnable sleep, till its time came.