The atmosphere in camp was cold, heavy and uncomfortable. Ashelin, Jak and Olto sat together around the fire in deep, lonely thought. None of them wanted to talk about it. Just a few hours ago, their pitiful raft had smashed into pieces on the waves, and Torn had stormed away, consumed by rage and resignation. He was yet to return to camp.

Everyone was feeling tense and lost, but Ashelin was feeling it the worst; the bond she shared with Torn was a close one, but right now she had never felt more distant from him. She had never seen him break like this before, not even during the blackest moments of all the wars and struggles they had shared in. When he shoved her over like that, it made her angry enough to want to get right back up and actually hit him for such insolence. If Jak had not been there to stop her, she probably would have done, losing her own temper and only causing worse consequences for sure. But now, after the time to think, her anger had dissolved into sadness and regret, and she just wanted him back.

So far, they had followed Jak's suggestion of letting him calm down on his own and waiting for his inevitable return. All through the rest of the gloomy day, they remained in their seats, not talking to each other for long stretches of time. The wind had completely abated now, the sea had calmed, but the heavy clouds still lingered. The whole island felt disturbingly silent, as if there were no other souls here but themselves, three ghosts sat around a fire. Torn still did not show himself as the day wore thin, and their suspense began to grow worse. Should they keep waiting?

As the last hour of daylight was in the thick sky, Ashelin could not take it any longer. "I'm getting really worried about him now, guys," she said, standing up. "I'm going looking for him."

Neither Jak nor Olto tried to stop her as she disappeared into the darkening shades of the trees. The first place she went to was the hill, finding it still coated in damp mud and impossible to climb, but Torn was not there. Nor was he at either of the two lakes, nor in any of their other most visited places on the island. Ashelin searched on for what felt like an hour, but as she continued to find no sign of him anywhere, her feelings became more frantic. Soon she was wandering the uncharted depths of the forest without thinking, knocking aside leaves, wading through bushes, calling in every direction, but there was never any answer.

She came to a stop, now standing knee-deep in the wild plants, to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. As she looked around, she realised that she might be lost; this was an area of the forest she did not recognise, and she could not even remember which direction she had come from. The daylight had almost faded away to nothing under the trees, and deep patches of shadow were growing between them. Soon it would be too dark to see, and dense, disturbing silence hung all around, not even the slightest breath of wind. She was perfectly alone.

She could not understand it. It was as if Torn had completely disappeared, but how could he have done? There was nowhere for him go, no way off the island. None of this made any sense, and terrible suspicions were starting to crawl to the front of Ashelin's mind, suspicions she wanted so much not to be true...

"Torn, where are you?" she called desperately one last time, feeling at her wit's end.

But then she heard something, ever so faint, yet it seemed so very clear in the insulated silence of the deep forest. Her ears twitched and a jolt of hope leapt into her chest. It was unmistakeably Torn's voice saying her name.

She followed it, both eager and fearful of what she may find, and she emerged from the thick undergrowth by the side of a tall, grey rock, dappled in moss. And there he was, sitting in its shadow with his back against it.

"Torn..."

In the failing twilight he looked like a lost, forgotten and sad figure. Both his hands were bloody and beaten, and there were red stains on exposed sections of the rock where he had evidently been punching at it, but he appeared to bear no greater injury. He did not look up when she appeared at his side, unable to meet her eyes, and kept looking down on the ground between his feet.

"Ash," he said simply, "I... I'm sorry... for what I did. It's just... being stuck here for so long... with no means of escape... I just lost it. I never should have laid a hand on you... and I didn't mean what I said..."

There was no mistaking the undisguised remorse in his voice and his body language, but Ashelin did not need it to sway her. She was overcome by the relief of finding him here, relatively unhurt and no longer blindingly angry, just when she had begun to suspect he might have done the worst. She knelt down beside him in the shadow and touched his bare shoulder, and he felt as cold as the stone.

"Torn, it's OK," she said softly. "I understand. Life here hasn't been easy for any of us, and we're all feeling it. We want you back, Torn. All of us."

Torn gave no visible reaction. He heard her words, spoken caringly and sincerely, but somehow, he could not believe them. In his own eyes, what he had done to her today was the final transgression on top of everything else that would place him beyond redemption. He knew that Ashelin had no reason to accept him back now, and the guilt was too strong to make him see otherwise. Even if she could forgive him, he could not forgive himself for attacking her like that.

"No. It's not OK," he said miserably, his head still bowed.

Ashelin gave his shoulder a gentle, playful push. "Come on, I'm not going to banish you from the camp just for pushing me over."

"It's not just that," said Torn darkly. His long time alone had reignited all of those terrible feelings that had plagued him throughout the war, growing increasingly inescapable whilst here on the island, and they were back again at a crescendo. There was no suppressing them now, no pretending that he was OK. He had to get them out in the open lest they swallow him up completely.

"It's... all my fault," he admitted, and the dagger of guilt stuck in his stomach twisted painfully.

"What are you talking about?" asked Ashelin, momentarily puzzled as she peered into the side of his dark face.

Torn swallowed. "This whole war..." he said, speaking as if he were confessing a great sin on his deathbed, "It's all my doing... and it's my fault we're stuck here."

Ashelin's face froze, shocked to hear him say this. At once, it reminded her of all those turbulent meetings with the city council and the accusations and denunciations that Torn had faced, but she never thought for one moment that he would actually believe them himself. He had been so dedicated to his work during the war. However, this had all evidently been self-distraction, and now he was laid bare in front of her, all his vulnerabilities and shame.

"Oh Torn..." she breathed with profound understanding. She'd had no idea that this consumed him so badly, eating away at him all this time beneath his rugged exterior.

"I never wanted any of this to happen," Torn went on, "And I'm sorry I brought you into this, Ashelin. You know I'd do anything to protect you... but all I've done is put you in more peril. I've failed. I failed the city, but worse... I've failed you."

Ashelin's mouth dropped open slightly, but these were the words, above all others, that provoked her to act. Torn had got it all wrong, and she had to make him see the truth. She suddenly gripped Torn tightly by the shoulders and turned him to look right at her so he paid attention. Her face was hardened and very serious, and she aimed her potent stare directly into his bloodshot eyes.

"No!" she ordered sternly. "Don't you ever say that! Torn, you haven't failed anyone, not the city, not me. None of this is your fault. I will never accept that!"

Torn was held in suspense by this sudden display of power and authority. This was the last thing he had ever expected to hear from her after all he had done, but it punched a hole right through his armoured layers of guilt and denial, straight to his heart, while in his mind it felt as if a veil were slowly lifting, unclouding his judgement.

"You... you mean that?" he breathed.

"Of course I do," Ashelin affirmed. "Torn, listen to me. You have done more good for Haven City than anyone else I know, even Jak, and nothing you ever say or do will change that."

Ashelin's words and her determined voice brought Torn's self-doubts to a crashing halt. All this time, he felt he had irreparably damaged Ashelin's trust in him, never to be the same again. However, she revealed now for the first time since that terrible day that her faith in him was as strong and unfaltering as ever. Nothing had changed. That was the personal confirmation he needed to hear from her right from the start, to know that she still held him in high regard, that she did not blame him, and most of all, that she still cared for him. He could read it in her eyes, those powerful green eyes, and months of shame and regret were melting away even as she looked at him now.

"We've all made mistakes and misjudgements, and done things we wish we hadn't," Ashelin went on, loosening her grip on him slightly. "Even me. But you are the finest commander the city has ever had, Torn, and the bravest man I have ever known. Now, repeat after me: I am not responsible for the war."

Her eyes glistened beautifully in the last vestiges of daylight that found its way through the thick woodland, and Torn knew he had no choice but to accept her command.

"I... am not responsible... for the war," he repeated, and he really believed it now. The veil had been ripped off and cast away, never to be seen again, revealing the truth that he had blinded himself to all this time.

"And don't you forget that," said Ashelin, now in a tender whisper.

Her face became softer, and Torn beheld, as if for the first time after a long parting, the woman he had come to trust, respect, and even love so deeply, that unmistakable, compassionate expression that she reserved just for him when they were alone together. He thought he might never see it again. Then she drew closer and kissed his face, a long, healing kiss.

That was enough to seal the deal for Torn, and suddenly he no longer felt ashamed to be in her presence; he wanted to be with her again, to be close, no longer moping by himself in the dark. He needed her. Slowly, he raised his arms and wound them around Ashelin's back as she did the same around his shoulders. All of a sudden, the approaching night felt much less cold.

The two of them spent a close and quiet moment together which seemed to last much longer than it truly did, not talking, just holding one another. When they finally broke apart again, Ashelin asked him caringly, "Now, you going to be OK?"

"Yeah... I think so," Torn answered. He still had difficulty finding his words, not knowing what to possibly say to her. "Thank you, Ash. How can I possibly make this up to you?"

"You don't need to do anything. You never had to. Now come on, let's head back to the camp. Jak and Olto are waiting for us."

She made to get up, but Torn caught her arm. "Just... don't tell them about this," he said evasively, his way of saying please. "What we said here..."

"Of course not," said Ashelin with a wink and an understanding smile. It seemed that Torn's pride was already recovering healthily. "Just between the two of us. Now come on, up you get."

She helped him to his feet, and Torn let her guide him by the wrist. A terrific relief now consumed all of his thoughts, and he felt indescribably lighter, unshackled and free from the troubles that had dogged him for months. Together, they took an alternate route back through the trees and emerged upon the beach to a pleasant surprise. The clouds were finally starting to break apart after so many days of cover, and the island was touched once again by warm, late evening sunlight. The sun itself could just be seen as a bright blur hovering delicately between the horizon and the lowest cloud layers, red and deep.

"Oh look," said Ashelin lightly. "That's a welcome sight, huh?"

Torn silently agreed. Somehow, this felt like a portent of change. They walked slowly together along the beach, taking in the day's last light, and it was not long before they strode into view of the camp. Jak and Olto, still sitting around the fire, saw them approaching, looked at each other and stood up. They felt optimistic at the sight of Torn again, walking hand in hand with Ashelin, but were unsure of what to make of the expressions on their faces. Once they too stood by the fire, a moment of silence fell, then Ashelin allowed Torn to step forward and address them.

"Guys, I'm sorry for how I've been these past few days," he said sincerely. "I know I've not been easy to work with... but I promise, that's all going to change now."

This apology felt small and insignificant compared to the one he had just given to Ashelin, but it still needed to be said now his head was straight. Jak and Olto both caught Ashelin's affirming nod, and knew that all was OK again. They both smiled acceptingly with relief, and each of them showed Torn their unconditional forgiveness with a hug.

"Well, welcome back, partner," said Jak.

"It's not the same without you on the team," added Olto with his usual, lovable smile.

Torn smiled back thinly, his final apology complete. At last, they were truly a whole again.

"Now let me do something about your hands," said Ashelin kindly.

Torn sat down while Ashelin fetched the first aid kit and applied some bandages around his knuckles.

"How'd you do that?" asked Jak casually.

"Took my anger out on a rock," answered Torn dryly. It felt very strange to be talking with them again as if nothing had ever happened, and even though he had been forgiven by them all, he still felt as if he had much to do to make up for his terrible behaviour somehow. Like his work was never done.

"There you go," said Ashelin a few minutes later as she finished the bandaging.

"Thanks, Ash. You're a life saver," Torn sighed, examining his hands before letting them drop, and then his head rolled back under the weight of all that had happened today. He felt as though he'd been pushed through a mile of concrete wall. "I'm just so tired right now."

Nobody was surprised. "I think we all are," said Ashelin. "An early night would do us some good, wouldn't you say?"

Everyone agreed, just as the sunlight disappeared.

In the middle of the night, Ashelin awoke naturally. The others all lay deeply asleep around her still, buried in grass and leaves inside the shelter, but for some reason, despite the stressful and exhausting events of the previous day, she no longer felt tired. As she lay there struggling to return to sleep, the same thoughts rolling around inside her head, she eventually abandoned her hopeless efforts, and carefully crawled outside into the night.

It was tranquil and silent in the camp. There was no wind, the sand was still damp from the many days of rain and bad weather, but the air now felt drier and warmer, a welcoming change. She stood in the centre by the extinguished fire and looked through the leaf canopy up at the sky, where growing gaps in the dark clouds formed lakes of stars that shimmered in their faraway beauty. It felt so calm now, but her mind was restless. The emotional fallout of the day before was still tangible and catching up with her again, and something in her half-sleep had stirred up new realisations which she had awoken with.

"Oh Torn," she sighed to herself, looking back to the shelter where he slept. "Why didn't you tell me how you were feeling?"

Poor Torn had been through a lot, and it got her thinking about herself too. Was there something she could have done to prevent his guilt from becoming so torturous for him?

She sat down limply in the Hellcat seat by the dead fire and tried to let her thoughts and feelings settle, just staring blankly out to sea. She deliberately avoided looking at the remnants of the raft that still lay right where they had left them on the edge of camp, because whenever she did, her memories kicked up the sense of failure associated with it again like sand in the wind.

There was no doubt about it, their time on this island had been a severe challenge, physically and psychologically, and tested them for all they were worth every single day. They had to get out of here, the sooner the better, and get back to the city where they belonged, where they were needed. Sitting here alone, Ashelin now felt her homesickness more than ever, no matter how much she tried to keep it together. She couldn't abandon her people, but she couldn't abandon her friends either, least of all Torn.

She sighed deeply, already bored and lonely and hopeless. How was she going to pass the rest of the night? It still felt hours until sunrise, and for some reason sleep still evaded her. She was getting chilly too. She needed something to do, something to keep her occupied and prevent her from wallowing in her emotions. Forcing herself out of the chair, she rummaged quietly around the camp, checking their supplies, and found a dangerous shortage of food. In yesterday's drama, nobody had refreshed their provisions. Looked like she had found a job to do then, and since she was wide awake now, she figured she may as well make good use of the time and go forage for some more.

Off she ventured into the trees. The forest path to the hill was silent and dark, nothing moved at all, and she felt very alone as she walked its course. The night that filled the gaps between the trees on either side of her was utterly impenetrable and intimidating, but the faint starlight from above was just enough to guide her way.

Then she broke through into the clearing and confronted the hill's dark shape, still coated in thick, wet mud. Atop it was the outline of the berry bush against the clearing sky, tantalisingly out of reach. Ashelin paused and considered it. They had run out of those berries days ago, but perhaps now with the change in weather, the hill could be climbed and she could retrieve a fresh batch. It still looked quite hazardous, but in the twilight, she thought she could make out a reasonably safe way up. She took one pace towards it, but her foot slipped right away on the wet earth.

"Whoa!" she gasped as she nearly lost her balance. "OK, got to do this slowly..."

One careful step at a time, she advanced onto the treacherous, sloping ground, kicking the toes of her boots deep into the mud for a secure hold. In this way, she made slow but good progress, getting about half way to the top, and her prospects became more positive as the silhouette of the berry bush loomed nearer. However, the hill's upper reaches were unsettled, and one of her feet suddenly slipped precariously down again, and her body turned with the movement. She didn't fall but she froze on the spot, now sideways on the hill, legs wide and arms outstretched to balance, and not daring to move a muscle.

"Damn it! Well, this was a stupid idea."

She was stuck, and she had no idea what had ever possessed her to try climbing this accursed hill. Reaching those berries was not worth the risk just yet. She had to get down, if she could, but she didn't feel secure in the slightest. Beneath her boots she could feel the mud shifting and liquefying. One false move would result in disaster.

"OK... gently..." she said to herself.

She swivelled her least stable foot deeper into the mud, hoping to firmly anchor herself in, and it felt like it was working. With her other leg she took the first tentative downward step. She made it, but she wasn't so lucky with her next one. The mud gave way, and both her feet began to slide awkwardly apart from each other, greatly upsetting her balance.

"No! No! No, no, no!" she cried, trying to right herself desperately, but she'd lost all control. Both legs shot out from under her, her arms flailed, she felt herself tumbling, and with a heavy splat she fell backwards into the side of the hill, and then slid gracelessly, head-first, all the way down to the bottom.

When she came to a stop, she was lying half-buried at the foot of the hill. For a few seconds she was silent with shock, breath held and eyes wide, but then her face broke, her emotions burst forth and she swore as loudly as she could up at the sky, not caring if it woke the others and brought them running to investigate. But nobody came, even in the several minutes it took for her to extract herself from the deep, sticky mud. When she was at last back on her feet again, she looked down herself in humiliation, and swore again.

"This... is just... perfect!" she hissed through her clenched teeth, trying hard not to scream out loud again. Forget the foraging, there was only one thing on her mind now: she needed a wash. Badly.

She squelched uncomfortably around the hill into the shadowy woodlands again, this time in the direction of the bathing lake near the island's centre. It was almost pitch dark under the trees and difficult to find the way, but this couldn't wait till morning; she would find that lake if it killed her, and all the way, she lambasted herself without restraint. The mud was everywhere: up her back, in her hair, even the insides of her boots, and they squished disgustingly underfoot with every step.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" she muttered angrily.

Several unpleasant minutes later, the starlit gleam of the bathing lake appeared through the dark, and Ashelin sighed with relief. She'd made it, and she wasted no time in sitting down by the water's edge and wrestling her boots from her feet. A gloopy waterfall of mud cascaded out of each of them onto the grass, and then she plunged them one by one into the water, drawing them out and hanging them upside down on tree branches. Then she stood up, and without even bothering to check that she really was alone, she peeled off the rest of her clothes, dropped them unceremoniously in a pile on the ground, and then lowered herself into the lake.

The water was chilly against her skin, but she didn't care and forced herself in deeper, fighting back the shivers. All that mattered was ridding herself of this mud. Even in the shadowy twilight, she could perceive it flowing away from her, a murkier shade of black in the dark pool. She kept on wading until she was in up to her waist, the deepest point of the lake, and here she took a breath and submerged herself entirely, disappearing beneath the surface.

The lake clearing fell still and the ripples in the lake dissipated. Then from somewhere up in the sky, a parting in the clouds opened and the green sun shone through. Its emerald light fell upon the lake through the gaps in the protective canopy, and illuminated the surrounding plants and trees.

Ashelin re-surfaced with deliberate slowness a few seconds later, brushing her wet crimson hair away from her forehead and out of her eyes. When they flickered open and blinked away the last drops, they perceived the change that had fallen upon the clearing. A spotlight from the heavens was on her and she was encompassed on all sides by leaves that moved without wind, and from her position in the centre of the lake, the water lapping gently around her shoulders with a refreshing earthy scent, she felt a lot smaller, secluded and almost imperceptible. It was a strange and unexpected feeling that made her stop and just take it in. She'd never been one to really admire nature before, but even she had to admit that this place was surreally beautiful in the green light of night.

She rose a little more, and felt indescribably like a new woman emerging from the pool of life, cleansed and re-born, as if all of her tensions, cares and impurities had washed away with the mud. Even the emotional residue of Torn's abandonment and finding him in the forest only a few hours ago felt far away and insignificant, like it no longer mattered, like it belonged to a different life.

Acutely aware of this transcendental sensation, she allowed it to hold her under its spell for many moments, until it naturally subsided and she remembered her clothes. They needed to be washed too; after all, she had no others she could change into out here, and it was about time they deserved a good soak. She distracted herself from the scenery for a moment and waded slowly back to where they lay on the bank. In the shallows she plunged them under and scrubbed them with her knuckles until she thought all the mud was gone, before draping them across an over-hanging tree branch to dry out, as clean as she could make them.

With that last chore taken care of, she moved calmly back out into deeper waters, where she allowed herself to fall backwards and float naturally on the surface, letting out a long, sentient breath. Her heart slowed, her mind eased, and her body felt weightless. This, she now understood, was true freedom; freedom from threat, freedom from care, freedom from all things she knew. It was so vastly different to what she had expected from her long years of struggle for it back in Haven, so pure and otherworldly, even a little lonesome and intimidating. But at last, she felt complete, like her purpose in life had been fulfilled. If only she could somehow achieve this feeling back home in the city, but she doubted it could ever be truly replicated, even in the tranquil lushness of Haven Forest.

She remained in that lake for a long time, buoyant upon starlit currents and drifting along timelessly with the calm, windless night, feeling totally safe in her natural surroundings, and losing herself to the serenity of the experience. She never wanted it to end, but it had to, for the dawn was soon approaching. The light gradually changed colour and the sky grew brighter overhead, seemingly absorbing the night's magical energy. Reluctantly and with great will power, Ashelin drew herself out of the pool and sat on the bank to dry off. She had spent so long in the water that she could still feel the phantom effect of it swishing around her, and her fingers and toes had wrinkled until they looked and felt like pale raisins.

She reached for her clothes, now mostly dry, and as she dressed, she felt ready to face the coming challenges that this new day would bring. The nocturnal swim in the lake seemed to have instilled new life into her, a difficult feeling to describe, but it was just the thing she needed to collect herself. Her body was rejuvenated and her thoughts were clear and directed.

Now fully dressed and standing in dappled early daylight, she took in a deep breath of the fresh morning air, and finally left the area, walking through the trees and emerging at the shoreline. The sky had dawned a perfectly clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and the rising sun shone full. Ashelin smiled docilely. It appeared that the storm's lingering shadow had finally passed over, and she hoped that their spate of misfortune that seemed to have accompanied it would soon turn around as well. Things did feel spaciously different already, like the island could breathe again.

By the time she returned to the camp, she was completely dry, and not long after she had sat down again, Jak emerged from the shelter.

"Morning, Jak," said Ashelin, prompting him to look to her.

"Morning," he grumbled sleepily, rubbing his head. Then he came over and joined her. "I needed that sleep."

"Yeah, me too," said Ashelin. She chose not to tell him about her private nocturnal bathe in the lake, preferring to keep it her own little secret that she could perhaps revisit on another night. That alone time had done her good. Besides, she knew that Jak and the others would laugh so hard to hear that she had fallen down that hill. Even though there was no way of telling from her outward appearance what had happened to her now, to her it was still embarrassingly obvious.

"You still up for building a new raft today?" she asked instead.

Jak looked over at the salvaged pieces. Yesterday they had all agreed they would make a fresh start on it in the morning. "Yeah. Let's do a better job of it than last time. But first, breakfast."

The two of them set to work preparing a fire. But when it was lit, they realised they still had hardly any food left in the camp, nothing that they could cook. In last night's muddy distraction, Ashelin had completely forgotten to bring some back. However, Jak soon set off to the other side of the island to try his luck again at catching more fish. Torn and Olto were both awake when he returned triumphantly with a fresh catch, the first in days.

"Hey," Jak said to Torn. "You feeling better today?"

"Yeah, I think so," answered Torn with a stretch and another thin smile. "I'm ready to get back to work now, and I promise, I'll be good this time."

"Great, man," said Olto, slapping him lightly on the back. "And you know what else? I think I'm fully healed now. No more nasty fever!"

He took in a strong breath of air, and everyone was happy for them both. Already their lives felt better, like a fresh start. Torn took a drink from the flask until it was empty, and Olto, feeling full of energy again, gladly volunteered to fetch more, and went off to the lake by the hill. However, he was back again within two minutes, bearing only a strange and curious expression.

"Hey guys, something weird's happened to the hill," he said.

Ashelin's good mood suddenly shattered, and she eyed everyone around the camp nervously. She knew at once what this must be about.

"What do you mean?" asked Torn, who was none the wiser.

"Just come and see."

Everyone got up curiously and followed him back to the hill, even Ashelin, but she stayed at the back where she could not be seen, hoping that this wasn't what she thought it was.

"Look," said Olto when they got there, pointing at the long streak in the muddy hillside.

Ashelin felt her face become hot and embarrassed. She knew that this was where she had fallen down the hill in the night, and now it seemed that she would no longer be able to keep it a secret from the others. She mentally slapped herself in the face for not realising this sooner. She should have stopped Olto before he set off, and volunteered to fetch the water herself.

"How did that happen?" she asked pre-emptively, pretending she had no clue and hoping she sounded innocent enough. But then she realised that it was not the mudslide that had caught Olto's interest.

He was much more interested in what had been revealed beneath it...