"Wait, Schierke," Isidro asked, "Why did the spell break; it worked up until that point."

"I'm not entirely sure… It wasn't very strong, but the first time we went through, nothing gave us the slightest notice so I thought it would be fine the second time."

"Do you, do you think they could have been planning it." He asked grimly.

"What do you mean?"

"Could the harpies and stuff, could they have known that there were more people in the city, and then could they have known we were trying to find people, and then could they have waited because they knew we would bring them back?"

"They didn't see us land. I know that." She pulled her legs to her chest hugging them. "I think, I think they were watching Wemba, waiting for him to slip up."

"If they knew where it was, why didn't they just attack?"

"Harpies are wind spirits, rather perverted ones, but wind spirits all the same, they probably couldn't sense them because they were underground and because of the elf magic, but knew they were there because of Wemba."

Isidro glanced over at Farnese who was finally asleep. The whole time they could tell she was worried, probably about Roderick. Which confused Isidro just a bit, because while of course everyone worried about Roderick, Farnese had it the worst. Isidro thought she liked Guts. Ah well, Girls were weird.

…

Guts hadn't slept yet, he couldn't. Casca still hadn't woken up yet, not to mention this was the first night out in the open, in the hell that he had in lived for four years. His body did need rest, maybe. With the Berserker armor he couldn't really tell, not the pain or hunger, or anything really. The only serious injury he'd gained from the battle was a dislocated and broken arm from his own cannon and then continuing to use the arm, and he wasn't aware it was there until Schierke had pointed it out.

Remembering that battle was strange for a number of reasons, the biggest one: his grip on his sanity. When he thought he lost her, he could feel the beast breaking loose. He was going to hack and kill anything he could get his swords through, purge the whole city if he had to, but then there was a light and a voice that at first he thought was Schierke, but it wasn't.

It was a light he'd felt before and through it he knew Casca was alive. Killing everything wouldn't save her, but if he could get her out of there, get her to safety where the witches and fairies could work their magic. The light seemed to encourage this line of thought, causing the beast to cower slightly, become defensive. And if Casca was still alive, he had to stay alive because she wanted him to.

Casca suddenly inhaled, fluttering her eyes as she woke. Guts sat up slightly ready to help her in any way.

"...Guts?" She asked drowsily. "What… Where are we?"

"Some abandoned farm, west of Ith."

She brought a hand to her head and looked confused, "Why am I not…"

"Magic, remember?"

"Right. Magic." She smiled, "Where is everyone?"

"Sleeping." Guts thought a moment, "Maybe we should be a little quieter."

"No I meant everyone, did they-" The look on Guts face told her everything she needed to know. "...I see. Did you see it happen?"

"No." He admitted, "But I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"I don't think I ever apologised to him about what I said." Casca said.

"What did you have to say sorry to him for?"

"You were there! Were you not paying attention?"

Guts shrugged. Even if he was paying attention he might've just thought it wasn't important so didn't care to remember, "I mean, I don't think he cared or else it would've been a bigger deal, right?"

Casca worried at her lip, averting her eyes from his. "Why does everyone who helps us ends up dead?" She asked in a quiet voice.

That took Guts aback. After thinking a few moments Guts responded, "I don't think it's just us. This world isn't kind to those who are kind."

…

Serpico was having trouble sleeping.

In the morning he was going to blame it on Guts and Casca talking, which while they were talking it wasn't especially loud, and Serpico had certainly slept through worse, what it really was was his experiences in Ith. He hadn't told anyone, because he couldn't explain it, and didn't want the worry, because surely it didn't mean anything.

Just because the he could understand what the harpies were saying didn't mean anything bad, right? Like it was just because of his connection to the wind spirits, and harpies were bird-like and birds flew in the air which was where the wind was, and that was why. He didn't need to tell Farnese and have her worry more, she was already beating herself up about Roderick and the fire incident. Both of which really weren't her fault.

Schierke explained later how easy it was for magic users to lose themselves in the flow of magic, like getting swept into a swift flowing river, and from Serpico's brief stint as a conduit he could see what she meant. Basically it was a mistake any beginner could make even if it scared the life out of Serpico. And with regards to Roderick that was just a nasty situation.

The Harpies didn't even say anything interesting… just everyone's deepest fears and secrets, so stuff he already knew or could figure out. Well, that and "Kill kill kill," and "Rip, tear," Really monstrous stuff.

Maybe if he heard it again he'd do something, but for right now there were enough stressors in everyone's life; he didn't need to add any more.

…

Isma fell asleep almost immediately, dreaming of an ocean that felt very far away.

…

Puck, exhausted from his duties as main healer, protector, and leader of the group, slept in Guts' bag as it lay on the ground to the side. He was happy to be out of Elfhelm, because as horrible as the outside world was, at least things were happening. Unlike elfhelm where everything was exactly the same idyllic forest day in and day out.

He hugged Betchi closer and fell asleep.