When the sharp tip of a naginata poked the side of her throat, Nina felt uncomfortable. Well, the splinters sticking out of her red hands were uncomfortable as well, as was the arrow protruding from her back. After pressing against the stone ground for an undesirable amount of time, her knees were uncomfortable too. All in all, she was just plain uncomfortable, and it was an itch she just couldn't scratch. Why? Because her hands were bound behind her back by a rope, and the knot was quite challenging to unravel when her hands quivered like an earthquake.

Before her, there sat a man, a pipe hanging out of his mouth. Unlike her, he had the privilege to sit atop a pillow, a zabuton, she'd heard it called by certain people. It sure looked comfortable... Well, at least more comfortable than the cold floor, which was all she had been given. If they could take the ground from her, she was fairly certain they would not even give her that.

She felt spite radiating from every pair of eyes in the room; every guard that pointed a spear toward her, every arrow aimed at her head, every club prepared to bash her into a coma... Now that she thought about it, they sure did have a lot of weapons pointed at her, the small girl whose limp wrists were bound. She felt like a dangerous animal, a leashed, hungry tiger that ached to lunge at any who moved. Obviously, that wasn't the case: the Hoshidans were just overreacting.

The only unarmed man in the room, the fortress' smoking leader, finally cleared his throat once he finished observing her. He readjusted his glasses and straightened his spine while his gaze grew hard. Well, harder than it was before. Before, she only saw anger. Now, she saw malice.

"That's a Nohrian if I ever saw one," he spoke grimly. "Narrow head; ghastly complexion; colored, round eyes..." His own eyes narrowed. "And that same glint in the eye of every Nohrian I've ever had the displeasure of coming across." The folks back in the army weren't lying when they said the Hoshidans were the most prejudice people on the continent. Nina felt embarrassed because she didn't believe them at the time she was told such a thing. Now she understood why the room was more tense than she thought it would be. In the middle of his pause, the man sucked on his pipe and huffed a cloud. "I want to know the name of the superior that sent you here."

She could tell them, but there was no guarantee it would save her hide. Besides, if she did spill everything she knew... that would certainly be the end of those that were dear to her. She hated every second of being in that blasted army, but those that made up that army...

Corrin.

Shigure.

Siegbert.

Velouria.

Percy.

Sophie.

Ophelia.

Forrest.

Dwyer.

Ignatius.

Midori.

Kana.

The parents of her friends.

Soleil's parents.

Her own parents.

Those were the people she'd come to love. Her friends. She was quite sure they loved her back in spite of her obvious (and embarrassing) flaws. For their sake, she refused to open her mouth, and she remained silent for as long as she could. By fleeing to the ground, her eyes found sanctuary, and her mind fled the issue by counting the number of cracks in the cobblestone floor. It was surprisingly distracting.

Until the man spoke again.

"Hmph. Any of you suppose she can't understand me? My accent might be a bit thick for her..."

"No sir, you speak her language adequately," commented a guard. "She simply refuses to answer."

"So she's a stubborn one. Pity. I should've known better than to hope she would be cooperative; a Nohrian is a Nohrian after all." One of the most threatening actions he could perform was an action she never thought she would find threatening: he stood. It was all he did. The wind from rising made the candle at his side flicker, but it was disturbed no more after he made movements toward her. Before her, he paused, belittling her with his scowl. "I've been told I am a rather progressive man, and I concur; I don't discriminate. Man, woman, young, old... I treat them all the same."

He eyed one man with a blunt club, then nudged his head toward his prisoner. Perhaps that action was more threatening than standing up since the man with the club prodded over to her, rhythmically beating the center of his palm with his weapon. He did not hit her, but only because he seemed to restrain himself. A second time, the leader cleared his throat.

"I'll give you one last chance to answer before I begin taking undesirable measures," he warned. "Your superior?"

Her hands began to quake, and sweat beaded on her forehead. She had to bite her tongue, for she feared it would betray not just her, but also those she longed to protect. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep herself contained in one miserable ball of dread. When the man recognized her decision, he heaved a deep sigh and fanned his hand toward her. Nina's worried eyes followed the club as it ascended into the air. As it cascaded, she knew she was in for unimaginable pain.

For once, she hated being right.

Right next to her arrow wound on her back, she felt the impact, and it came with more than enough force to plant her face on the harsh floor. Breathing profusely, she fought to contain the urge to roar. The static guards around her watched stoically, showing not even an ounce of remorse, disgust, or empathy. On the ground she remained, for she found not even the strength to lift her head. Almost all of that strength went to coping with the misery that spread down her spine, throbbing over and over again. Again, she found solace from reality by counting, but not the cracks in the stone; instead, she found more interest in counting how many times her heart could beat in a second. So long as she continued to count, she at least knew she was still alive.

But was living worth it?

"Takamatsu, is your wrist feeling limp today? I've seen you hit harder than that," muttered the interrogator. "I suppose we'll call that merely a taste of what's to come, Nohrian. With that as only a taste, could you imagine an entire meal? I would suggest speaking now if you prefer not to find out."

The faces of her comrades remained in her mind. If they left, she would surely cave. She just had to keep thinking about them! She could not betray them! A moment of agonizing pain was always better than a lifetime of regret and shame... assuming her captors would let her live once they got what they wanted from her. That was all the more reason to keep quiet; if her last stand has come, she was to make sure the Hoshidans got nothing out of it.

By shaking her head, she sealed her fate. Again, the end of the club kissed the air, and it whacked her back once again. She surrendered a yelp after the second blow, fingers sprawling and straining. She coughed because she thought she needed to. Perhaps the pain made her delirious.

"Let's try this again..." The man knelt before her, took her by the chin, and lifted her head. She was forced to gaze into his eyes. Such anger. Such hatred. She saw it... and something else. In the blackness of his pupils, there dwelled interest, fascination, almost. "I want to know who sent you." She did not answer, but things did not go as she predicted. As long as it did not involve her getting hit another time, she was happy to be proven wrong. "Whoever it was, they're quite bold, sending a young lady such as yourself somewhere so dangerous. Stupid, even? No, I wouldn't say stupid... foolish perhaps... or maybe even genius. I know of no Nohrian generals with such intellect or tactics, so that must mean you were sent from a small, lesser-known faction. One that is alone... and desperate."

Her gaze hardened.

"You think?" she finally mewled.

"Ah, so you can understand me..."

"I'll tell you what you want to know." If it could stall time from getting hit again, she was more than willing to embrace it. Or, if they did decide to kill her after getting the information they wanted, at least she would be put out of her misery for good. "It was General Farvald of the northern faction. He sent me... to collect your roster data..."

The man paused. Beside him, the club bearer lowered his weapon, assuming his job was finished. However, to Nina's surprise, after he turned back to his leader, the leader merely shook his head, closing his eyes softly. Darkness washed over her when she watched him wave at her again. The third blow was the hardest blow yet, so she released the loudest howl yet.

"There is no General Farvald. You must think me a fool," he groaned before turning to his soldier once more. "Hit her again for that one. Perhaps next time she'll think twice before telling any lies."

Sweating profusely, Nina began to breathe quicker. She did not know if her vision was clouding because of how quickly she breathed or because of the agonizing pain spreading across her back. In just a few hits from that club, she had already become tender, which meant each beating was destined to hurt more than the last. Another hit... Could she take one?

No, she could not. But at least her secrets stayed safe in her mouth, for she spewed no answers. When the club met her back once more, the pain finally knocked the girl unconscious. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she descended to the ground, where she lay motionless. As he slowly lifted his weapon, the soldier awkwardly blinked and nudged her with the tip of his foot. Like a limp doll, she did not respond to any of his probes.

"Um... Sir?" He turned to his superior, who sighed.

"A puny pain tolerance."

"I didn't kill 'er, did I?"

"Thankfully, no. There's plenty of information to be mined out of her, so the last thing we'd want is for her to be dead. She's simply unconscious."

Standing in front of an unconscious girl with an arrow in her back did not paint him in a good light, especially in the eyes of the tent's newest arrival: a girl, who slipped through the entrance flap. She was a girl of small stature, young, and seemingly innocent. However, her short, cherry red hair rose the moment her eyes fell upon the scene, and horror spread across her face.

"Y-Yukimura..." she whispered as she approached the man. When the unconscious body was at her feet, she paused, looking down at her neighbor's handiwork with horror. As though they had been caught doing something they should not have, the surrounding soldiers turned their eyes away to disown the situation. The man with the club stepped away, for he knew it was his actions that upset the girl.

"Princess Sakura... I... wasn't expecting you," Yukimura sounded after bowing.

"What have you done to this poor girl?" she asked as she knelt at the girl's side. Two fingers checked for a pulse, which she luckily found, and she gasped once she noticed the arrow protruding from her back. Two hands delicately picked up one hand, which was crippled by many splinters. Her mind jump to its default, so she lifted her head. "She must be taken to the medical tent so I can heal her."

"I do not believe that will be necessary, milady." Yukimura cleared his throat. "The girl you pity is a Nohrian spy. She follows the orders of generals that were appointed by the man that murdered both your mother and your father. You waste your breath worrying for this filth."

Sakura shook her head, passionate with insistence. It was a sight Yukimura took with chagrin, for he knew that meant the fight had become a fight he could not win, not with words nor by power.

"I don't care. This girl isn't King Garon or the general she's obeying. She's hurt... and Hoshido is a benevolent nation, not cruel. Someone please help me."

Many of the soldiers, once holding their blades to Nina's throat, rushed to Nina, where they carefully lifted her into their arms. It wasn't because that was what they wanted, but because it was what Sakura wanted. Yukimura noticed. As the men helping Nina departed from the tent, he huffed a labored sigh.

"Where all respect is due, milady, I deem your hospitality foolish."

When Nina came to, she was met with the sight of the ceiling of a tent. She immediately knew it was a tent because she'd been in many, especially after getting promoted. She became an Adventurer, which meant she was granted the privilege of a second utility to use on the battlefield: a staff, which she could use to heal the wounded. She was terrible at the sport, but it wasn't her fault; she was terrible because her teachers were terrible teachers. Jakob was her first, and only good, teacher; healing was a practice he took to naturally, and he treated it like an art form. However, he only stuck around for about a week because he got impatient with her. Again, it wasn't her fault; she stuttered around men uncomfortably often. That was especially the case with Jakob, for thoughts of he and Corrin continuously roused in her deviant little mind. A master-servant relationship... It was so very romantic... and steamy. What if one day, after a tiresome battle, Corrin just needed to release a little frustration? Jakob was bound to serve his master, no matter the command. He would allow himself to be dominated by his stimulated master, and Corrin would hungrily make use of what was his...

Oh.

She was drooling again.

Thus, she was stuck with Elise and Felicia, who were horrible teachers. Felicia was a kind, timid lady, but she always mixed up the lesson plans and gave Nina the wrong instructions. Elise was nice too, but she kept getting distracted by rabbit trails. She didn't seem particularly adept to working either, so, since teaching was working, she constantly prompted to play games like hide-and-go-seek instead of finishing their lesson.

The sight of just the ceiling of the tent evoked so many memories. Once, they were tiresome, perhaps annoying, memories, but now, once they were out of reach, they were happy memories. Her heart sank, for she came to the conclusion she was never to return to those memories. All those people she would never see again... she already missed them. However, she took solace in one fact: they would be okay, for what little work she was able to get done was now with Soleil, who escaped. Eventually, that information would land in the hands of Corrin. Everything was going to be okay.

Wait...

What?

Why was she thinking so sadly? She was Nina, the girl who assembled heists to rob the rich blind. Seldom did she fail in her practice. It was her domain and her domain alone, which meant she was bound to make her escape one way or another. Such despair was an insult to her expertise, and it was an insult she took very, very personally. Instead of wallowing in her fear and gloom, she decided to concoct her escape plan immediately.

Well, almost immediately. The present demanded a little more attention than her project, for when she bolted up, her eyes fell upon an unexpected sight. A redheaded girl sat at the side of the mattress upon which she lay, wringing out a cloth over a bowl of steaming water. Nina's movements spooked the girl, but when she turned to her, she smiled kindly and dipped her head.

"Good morning. O-Or, rather, good evening. You've been zonked out for an entire day. How're you feeling?" Perplexed, Nina blinked. Thanks to the warmth of the nearby candle light, the genial look in her neighbor's eye, and the absence of pain in her back... Nina did not feel threatened, which was the polar opposite of how she felt before she blacked out. However, no matter how comfortable she found herself, she found not the words to respond. That worried the girl at her side, whose brows raised. She gasped and drew nearer. "U-Um... S-Sorry, but... You're from N-Nohr, aren't you? Am I speaking your l-language correctly?"

Nina felt like a criminal for not answering. Funny how that worked, since she was regarded as a literal criminal where she grew up. At that time, and even still in the present, she never batted an eye at such a fact. However, now, feeling like a criminal felt so... criminal. She shook her head quickly in hopes of getting rid of that icky feeling.

"You're fine."

"Th-That's good," she whispered while turning to the bowl of water. "I-I... um... I took you here to patch you up since you... you got on Yukimura's bad side. I'm s-sorry about that... but I'm sure you feel a l-lot better now." Over the stranger's shoulder, Nina caught eye of a staff. It was different than the ones she was used to using, for it was decorated with colorful ribbons and crafted with darker wood. Slowly, pieces of the puzzle started to pop into place. "Um... I also brought you some food... in case you're h-hungry. Being knocked out for an entire day pr-probably made you work up an appetite... so... um... H-Here you go..." She retrieved a square platter resting beside the bowl of water, and she presented it to her guest. Nina stared at the plate's contents strangely, just as she did when the Wind Tribe fed her dinner. Whatever the food was, it was triangular and white. Quite curious, she would call it. If her caretaker had not told her otherwise, she would not have even thought it was food at all. "I-It's called onigiri. I figured you wouldn't know how to use hashi, so I brought you something you can eat with your hands." The girl paused, taking note of how Nina stared. "Don't worry... um... please... I didn't do anything bad to it. It's just rice and... um... t-tuna."

At least it wasn't cabbage, but she was almost hungry enough to consider eating cabbage.

With no better option, she took a dive and nibbled on the triangle. She was surprisingly unimpressed with how it tasted. It was rice indeed, lightly salted and nothing noteworthy, but the interior housed a pinch of fish. The fish was more flavorful than the rice, but that wasn't saying much since almost anything was more flavorful than the rice. For good reason, Nina was always under the impression that Hoshidans did not include much meat in their diet, especially after studying the eating habits of people like Mozu and Azura during her many people watching sessions. After eating authentic Hoshidan cuisine, she came to the conclusion she was not mistaken. What she'd give for a nice bowl of beef stew...

"W-Well? What do you think?" asked the girl. Nina simply nodded in response. "My name's S-Sakura, by the way... I'd like to know your name too."

Eyes widening, Nina's attention abandoned the bland food in her hand, for it went straight back to the girl. Sakura... Sakura.. She'd heard that name before. It was an important name, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why it was important. She was confident in one thing, though: the girl at her side was definitely more than a mere cleric.

She would not have to worry for long; shortly after Sakura finished speaking, a face broke through the entrance flap of the tent. It was the stern, young face of a girl. Her auburn hair spilled over her shoulders, caressing her spotless skin. Initially, Nina was frightened by the stranger's sudden appearance, but, after observing her, she no longer felt as threatened. It wasn't because the stranger softened up; Nina just studied her long enough to comfortably conclude she could outrun her if she needed to.

"Milady, weren't you instructed not to tell the Nohrian your name?"

"What harm is it doing? I want her to trust me."

"You may get the Nohrian to trust you, but you should never trust the Nohrian. Backstabbing fiends're all they are..."

Nina's eyes rolled after narrowing. Were all Hoshidans like that? Did they think it was a sport to see how many times one could insult a Nohrian for being... well, Nohrian? Thus far, the only hospitable Hoshidans on her record were Mozu and Sakura. She was not getting a flattering impression of the nation, and that was unlikely to change.

Wait...

How did the girl address Sakura?

Milady?

"Are you... Princess Sakura of Hoshido?" Nina inquired curiously after taking another bite of her rice ball. Shortly after her question, the girl outside the tent rolled her eyes and ventured deeper inside the tent. Both Nina and Sakura watched her awkwardly, especially as she plopped down beside the latter. Upon her lap, she rested a long, polished katana. Thankfully (for Nina at least), that katana was sheathed, but it did not take away from how menacing it was. Just one blunder and her head might end up quick drawn off her shoulders.

"U-Um... Hana? What are you doing?" Sakura asked the girl who just arrived at her side. She sat with her back stiff, face prejudice.

"Now that she knows your identity, milady, it'd be stupid of me to leave the two of you alone."

Awkwardly, Sakura turned back to Nina.

"I suppose that makes sense..." she muttered lowly. On the bright side, after setting her eyes upon Nina's face again, her confidence resurrected. "I was... I was wondering if my interrogation method would be a bit more effective than Yukimura's. I wouldn't dream of hurting you... o-or being mean to you. S-So... um... can you please tell me who sent you here?"

Hana's eyes burned a hole through Nina's clothes, and it started a fire Nina itched to put out. Any sudden moves, however, would surely startle both of them, and that was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she had to sit perfectly still, smelling the thick, black smoke rising from her clothing. She grew nervous.

Sakura had been hospitable indeed. A broken rib or two would have been hers to endure had Sakura not stepped in and taken care of her. Her calm, serene demeanor made her feel as though they were friends, even if they had only just met. If Sakura made her feel so conflicted on purpose, she was a manipulating mastermind. If on accident... Nina felt guilty to turn her back on such an innocent girl.

"What'll happen if I don't answer you?"

"Ugh. Typical," Hana scoffed.

"Yukimura sent a message about your capture to the capital. That's where my brother Ryoma and my sister Hinoka are," Sakura began. "I've heard rumors that my brother has r-recruited a talented Diviner, and she's created a spell that makes people always tell the truth. If you d-don't answer me... Yukimura is going to send you to the capital, and you'll meet the Diviner. You don't want to go to the capital. My brother is the most gentle man in the world, but only with family. With enemies, he'll... there's no telling how cruel he'll b-be to you. Your king killed our mother and our father. That's something he'll never forgive."

Grim, Nina's eyes narrowed.

"Why're you so forgiving?"

"I'm not. I want your king to die for what he did... but you're not him, and I recognize that. So please... just t-tell me what we need to know so you won't get hurt anymore."

Gradually, Nina found her hands to be more captivating. Her cold, clammy, sweaty hands. Any wetter, and she'd probably have fungus growing out of her moist pores. They quivered. Oh, how they quivered. Yet another trial stood before her, and, with the dread of enduring her most recent beating a second time, it was harder than ever before. She swallowed hard, however, and clamped her teeth down on her tongue. She fought the urge to curl into a pitiful ball.

"There're people I care about. I need to protect them."

Solemn, Sakura withdrew, eyes dulling. As her head hung, she slowly nodded. Hana, on the other hand, huffed an indifferent sigh.

"I understand. If this is the path you wish to take, I won't stop you. Just r-remember... remember not speak defiantly against Ryoma."

To the capital Nina was destined to go. To the capital, where a hawk landed on the gloved arm of a soldier who patrolled the wall walk by torchlight. From the bird's leg, the soldier acquired a small, branded scroll, which, after reading the heading, was addressed to royalty. Respectfully, he did not intrude on its contents, but instead handed it to an off duty guard, who rushed to the nearest royal. The nearest would be an elder, skinny teen, who tended to her pegasus in the company of a few other guards. Upon arrival, the messenger cleared his throat, set a knee upon the filthy stable ground, and presented the letter.

"High Princess Hinoka, I have come to deliver a message from Fort Jinya."

The statement alone immediately grabbed the girl's attention, which was once fixated on her horse. While entrusting the brush to a neighboring guard, she trudged her way through hay and mud to reach the man, from whom she retrieved the letter with insistence.

"By the gods, that's where my sister is..." Every pair of eyes and ears in the room, including the one that was now brushing the horse, curiously watched as she urgently broke the seal. While unraveling the scroll, her gaze hungrily gobbled up the words bound inside. For many solid, uncomfortably quiet minutes, Hinoka's lips were sealed, reading the letter time and time again for fear of misinterpreting the message. Once finished, her calloused fingers rolled the scroll back up. Her eyes hardened in the meantime.

"Milady, is there bad news in the south?"

"No," Hinoka's gruff tone responded. "In fact, it's a turning point in our favor. A Nohrian spy's been caught infiltrating the fortress, and Chief Tactician Yukimura has proposed to bring her to the capital for... Well, let's call it an interrogation." She turned back to he who delivered the letter, and she roughly returned it to him. "Make sure this reaches my brother quickly."

"Right away, milady."

A pang in her belly awoke Soleil.

Hunger.

All she could feel was wretched, uncomfortable hunger. Having gone at least three days without a proper meal, she had already begun to feel woozy. Several times, she attempted to catch prey, any prey, with which she could feed herself, but her efforts proved pointless. Nina, being handy with a bow, was the designated hunter, not her. The best she could do was swing her kodachi, but a kodachi was nowhere near efficient when it came to hunting down rabbits or the occasional fox. They were too quick for Soleil, who was encumbered by a sprained ankle.

It was too soon to eat the cured meat, for it was still autumn. She could go a little longer without food. When Nina got back, she would get some fresh meat in no time. As bland as it was, just one more meal sounded like heaven. She couldn't wait for that girl to come prodding through the woods, searching for Soleil and the rest of their things...

For four days, Nina never showed up.

During those days, Soleil resorted to foraging on her way back to the fort, where she planned to sit and watch for the return of her partner. During her search, she happened upon berries, many berries, but it only brought back memories of when things were far more simplistic. Seemingly ages ago, just before arriving at the gates of Izumo, Soleil found berries of the exact same color alongside the trail, and she brought them to the attention of Nina. Nina swatted the fruit out of her hand immediately and scowled.

"I thought you were smart enough to know you can't just eat any random berry you find in the forest," she had grumbled.

"Heh heh... um... In my Deeprealm, the guys and I didn't do much work in forests. Can't keep the local ruffians under control if you're busy with your head shoved in some bushes, miright? It's not my fault for not knowing."

"Nice excuse."

Needless to say, Soleil did not even consider touching the berries when she saw them again.

One time, she crossed paths with a tall, benevolent apple tree, which caught her eye immediately. At the time she first saw it, she was less hungry and had more energy. However, her sprain was also fresh, so she still had difficulty scaling the tree. The lowest hanging fruit was the most unripe, but that did not deter her from trying to grab it. The second she took a bite into it, her face soured, and she immediately spit it out.

Now that she was desperate for food of any type, the thought of even unripe apples made her mouth water. Lured by the idea of food, Soleil stumbled tiredly from camp, hissing when her ankle threw fits. Four days and there seemed to be no signs of her foot healing. That worried her. If anything, the only progress it seemed to be making was in the direction she didn't want it to go; each day, she awoke to find it more swollen than the day before. She attempted to soothe her pain by massaging it many times, but her ankle always complained. Eventually, she gave up and blamed her lack of recuperation on a lack of nutrition.

It was lucky she found the apple tree again, for she never thought of herself as a master at navigation. When it came to rushing down mazes of alleys, she was a pro, but when it came to the woods... of course she was even lesser than an amateur. Scaling up the tree took more doing than before, especially when her hands trembled. Her ankle refused to help her up the tree, so she had to rely on the strength of her arms and her last good foot. She fumbled many times, but she managed to avoid accidentally landing on her twisted ankle again. After more than enough attempts, she was victorious: a shiny gala apple was in her hand, and she immediately bit into it...

And it was too ripe.

Again, Soleil's expression soured, but it wasn't because the apple was sour. When it fell apart in her mouth, she shook her head and swallowed it anyway, gagging as it slid down her throat. Strangely enough, as disgusting as the apple was, she felt satisfied after just one bite, so she went in for a second. The cycle continued until she had eaten the top, bottom, core and all. She felt tempted to gnaw on the stem, but, after tasting it, she changed her mind.

She continued her post in the bramble, eyes fixed on the gate and walls of the fortress in the clearing. However, it was difficult to keep her eyes fixed on the edifice for long; having slept little the night before, just like all the other nights, her eyes could not stay open for long. They grew heavy, especially after eating her meal.

Soleil did not remember falling asleep, but, all of a sudden, she was yanked out of a dream by the sound of thunder. In actuality, what she heard was not thunder at all. Instead, it was something worse: horses. Lots of them. Her eyes darted around worriedly, searching for the source of the noise, which she found sooner than she anticipated. The fortress spewed a parade from its front gate, and it consisted mostly of hoofed livestock. As expected from the military, the horses were a spectacle indeed: flags of red flew from their back, and sturdy wooden armor shielded their limbs and torso. Merciless horseshoes, cleated, dug holes in the dirt path.

Intrigued, the girl shifted closer to the spectacle in hopes of getting a better look. The front of the parade was led by a highly decorated soldier, who bore two flags on his back. His peers, who only had one flag (or none), were obviously lesser in rank. Whatever rank each soldier held, they were still menacing, for each did not go without a weapon. Most had yumis on their thigh, an arrow loaded and prepared to shoot. However, a gang of four wielded long naginatas, and their blades were directed at the horse in the middle of their formation.

It was an interesting formation indeed. In the middle, there walked a seemingly average steed. Unlike its neighbors, it was not weighed down by hefty armor nor equipment. In fact, it was completely naked. Only one person sat upon its back, barren of a saddle. The rider's legs rested upon either side of the horse's belly, but a tight knot of rope snaked around one ankle, and that same rope ran under the horse's underbelly, where it wrapped around the rider's other ankle. Her wrists were bound against one another. She was blinded by a dark fold of cloth. Most frightening of all, however, were the familiar braids running down the rider's back.

It was Nina.

One horse was in front of her, two rode at her side, and one guarded her rear. The latter three, with scowls, pointed their naginatas at her, drawing frighteningly close. Nina knew better than to move, even if she could not see. To preserve her own life, she remained perfectly still, waiting for her opportunity to pounce... if such a thing was to ever bless her with its presence.

The sight sent fire to Soleil's chest, and she responded with a pained grunt. Desperate, she scrambled through the bramble to keep up with the parade, longing to never lose sight of her captured partner. Of course, as one would expect, horses on a clear path were bound to move faster than a human clumsily stumbling through foliage. With time, she lost sight of the group, and that was when she slipped into panic.

"Oh gods, no..." she whispered to herself, fighting worried tears. "No no no no no... This can't be happening..." She hoped, prayed even, that her visions were merely delusions conjured up by hunger. Deep down, she knew that was only wishful thinking; what she saw was unmistakably real. For as long as she could, she shoved her exhaustion aside and broke for camp, slapped many times by vines and thorns on her way. It did not matter how much it hurt; nothing was going to slow her. Not now. Now was not the time to be slow!

She collected their things the fastest she could after making a sloppy inventory check. While running, she worked on throwing the two bags on her back. To her dismay, the extra weight slowed her immensely, especially when all the branches around her lusted after the luggage. There was no other choice but to break out of the woods and take the road, otherwise she'd never catch up.

Come to find out, she was to never catch up, no matter what she did.

Soleil realized that sooner than she would have liked.

With her foot lame, it was impossible for her to see those horses again, no matter how much she wished of it. What she'd give to hear the thunder of the Hoshidans, her enemy. She wanted them so badly. She wanted their blood, for she knew they wanted Nina's. If anything was to happen to her... she would never forgive them. The entire nation, young or old. The hybrid of rage and fear concocted the perfect fuel for her to limp on in spite of every pain rushing up and down her body. The knives scraping the inside of her belly became nothing.

Soleil wanted the Hoshidans, but all she got was night. And day. And night. And day. She never rested, stopping only to drink. Perhaps nature wanted her to drink more; she sent rain, heavy rain, on Soleil, who ignored her message anyway. The mud clung to both her feet, the swollen one and the strong one, and she could feel her reddening face grow redder. The back of her palm felt that red, but she found it too hot to feel for long. When her lungs labored harder than they had before, she knew it was time to worry.

Wading through a pit of mud required stomping her way through. One stomp. Two stomp. The second hurt the most, for it upset her already angered foot. She yelped for the first time in the journey. One simple noise brought her out of her enraged trance, humanizing her once more. Thus, worry made a devastating return. Unable to bare with the misery any longer, she toppled onto her knees, heaving, grasping the mud beneath her with the tightest fist she could muster. In such a weak state, that fist was not tight at all.

How wonderful it felt to finally stop walking. How wonderful it felt to feel raindrops massage her feverish muscles. She negotiated with herself. She could rest for a little bit, couldn't she? It wouldn't be long. She was in a fine place to rest. It may have been in the middle of the road, but who was going to come down that way anyhow? Especially during a rainstorm...

In the mud, she buried her face, and she remained motionless.