She didn't have any more luck at the farms than she did in the town. By the time she finishing sneaking around the scattered buildings, the day had drawn near—the stars vanishing from view as the sky grew ever slightly brighter. By dawn, everyone would be wide awake. It would be a miracle if she got a few, short minutes of rest before then.

That was, if she could sleep at all. Despair clung to her, making it hard for Ferris to maintain an essence of rational thought. From the moment the sky began to brighten, she had somewhere around an hour before daybreak; just long enough to make some distance and hide herself. She could pick up where she left off when things got quiet again.

If Castellar was still alright, her only solace was knowing that he wouldn't let Ciara get hurt. Her sister was his only bargaining power. Letting her die meant throwing away the only thing that would keep Ferris in check—and stop her from trying to wring his skinny neck the next time she saw him. Ciara had to be fine.

She'd already collected a modest, leaf-covered branch to sweep through the snow and covers her tracks with. Returning to the forest, she eventually found a cluster of evergreens that heavily intersected. Not only would the lacing limbs act as a cradle to support her weight, but they would also better shield her from unwanted gazes. Now, she just had to hope that the dogs wouldn't pick up her scent. She imagined that the only reason they already hadn't had something to do with her unplanned bath in the waterway.

The branches swayed under her as she found a good crook to nestle down in. Three braced her outstretched legs while a fourth supported her back. Ferris leaned her side against the trunk, keeping watch from behind the wall of foliage. Likely, she could only see marginally better than anyone would looking back up her way.

The girl was more exhausted than she knew. Running all night topped with her tumult of emotions and the stress of the circumstances… Whatever little energy had been restored had just as quickly worn away. Beyond her control, her eyes slowly shut.

She'd never had a vision quite like this one:

It wasn't a singular scene that she was made the audience of, but a mess of scenes all haphazardly playing at the same time—like a march of jesters at a festival all vying for attention. In one, a child fell hard onto a bed of golden flowers that barely broke their fall. In another, a strikingly similar youth faced off against a tall, oddly-dressed skeleton in the middle of a snowstorm. A third brought her back to the ornate, golden hall she'd seen before, that second child now facing the shorter skeleton that unnerved her so much.

It was the fourth vision, however, that rattled her the most. The human children in each of the first three surprised Ferris with how similar in appearance they were to Ciara. They had her dear sister's soft face, to the extent that they may as well have been long-lost relatives. In the fourth vision, there was no uncertainty in who she was looking at, no matter how impossible it was.

Sitting in the snow—in a place that looked almost like the one in the second vision, but with the trees surrounding them much older and more tightly packed together—was another version of Castellar and herself. The two were dressed in brightly-colored tunics—blue and green respectively—that Ferris thought would never suit their true selves. Yet here they were, smiling and laughing at one another as if they didn't have a care in the world.

Eventually, this Castellar's grin faltered, turning into one of remorse. "I haven't been the friendliest to you, have I?" he asked, "I'm… ashamed of myself… Honestly, I thought you might hate me."

Bewildered, her doppelganger blinked at him, "Why would you think that?"

The voices of the other visions overlapped. The tall skeleton called to the human paired with them with a stern, but sad gaze, "…but the way you shamble around from place to place… The way your hands are always covered in powder. It feels… It feels like your life is going down a dangerous path."

The short skeleton, dripping with sweat and his own stare burning with a conviction that didn't match that set in his own words, pressed, "Somewhere in there, I can feel it. There's a glimmer of a good person inside you. The memory of someone who once wanted to do the right thing. Someone who, in another time, might've been…"

Still lying in the flower bed, the child curled around themselves in pain.

"Well, I don't hate you."

"I don't hate you either."

"That's good, because I'd really like to be your friend."

"Someone needs to keep you on the straight and narrow! But worry not! I, Papyrus, will gladly be your friend and tutor!"

"C'mon, buddy. Do you remember me?"

The injured child began to whimper.

Castellar's double helped lift hers onto her feet, "We better focus on getting out of here. I don't like the feel of this place."

"Really? I think it's beautiful…"

Even with fear sprinkled in her eyes, the one called Papyrus pulled the child across from them in a consoling embrace.

The short skeleton rammed a jagged bone through the child's chest, any semblance of forgiveness gone, "If we're really friends, you won't come back."

The isolated child's soft cries turned into a strangled, lonely call for help.

Thanks to her visions, Ferris woke up feeling more bitter than when she fell asleep. She hated them. She hated that she couldn't make sense of them, that they might have any relation to her and that she was seeing such useless things in the first place. They didn't warn her about anything or bring her any closer to finding Ciara. All they did was sap her of what little peace of mind she might've had while asleep.

There was no helping it. She had to get moving anyway.

It wasn't yet midday. The muffled chaos of distant battles that consumed the previous night had waned. Possibly, the two opposing sides had also drained themselves out and were now taking a much-needed rest. Then again, there was just as much a chance that a winner had already been determined.

She decided to check around the woods until nightfall. There might've been a checkpoint someplace where her enemies lurked—waiting for just the right moment to make a break for it. Something like an old outpost or a thieves' den… After dusk, she'd find her way back and search the town one more time.

Leaving the snow and frost behind her, Ferris arrived at a spot where multiple stone pillars erupted from the ground. It was as though the mountainside had been cracked open, the broken pieces of itself scattered around like splintered wood off a log or crumbs from a biscuit. The girl looked down one of the narrow ravines. It was a long drop.

"Ferris!"

She sighed through her nose. He didn't disappoint. Of course he was still alive.

If she didn't look well-rested, then Castellar looked as if his legs might give out from under him at any moment. Though he tried to hide it, he had clearly pushed himself to his limits—likely searching for her all through the night and into morning without pause. His wound was ugly from neglect and his breathing labored.

The rage in his eyes was ferocious, but when he saw that ten times reflected in her own gaze, he froze. She watched in silence as everything came into sharp clarity for him. The mask of a selfish, but still well-meaning guide chipped away. It was hard to make sense of what was left in its place: Shock, a little bit of fear, maybe some regret, and then acceptance of what needed to be done from that point forward. She could feel a change to the air.

"You shouldn't have run off," he said in a low voice, "Don't make this harder than it has to be and just—"

"Do as I'm told?" she finished for him with a nasty smirk, confirming any lingering questions he might've had. "You should know me well enough by now to know that's not going to happen."

Cyan shapes leapt directly in front of her. Bones enclosed her on all sides, crossing at the top to seal her between them. It was a well-crafted spell, bound to hold better than if he'd used a more standard form of magic.

However, it was far from perfect, especially against someone so used to pain. Ferris pushed herself against the cage, catching a scream in her throat. It felt like her insides were electrified, the magic itself begging her to be still. She pushed on until she stood on the other side, instinctively knowing her HP had been carved in half from the act, but soon smiling despite that. Castellar's expression, one of horror mixed with frustration, was worth it.

Ferris reached inside her pockets for the dephnell and mockingly waved it at him. Even if he had no memory of what happened last time or knowledge of the plant, he had to understand its use. Before she could bring it to her lips, a bone pierced through her wrist like a long piece of shrapnel, forcing her to drop the mess of petals now painted with crimson.

Castellar shouted at her, "Don't be stupid. This isn't a fight you can win!"

"I'm counting on that."

Since the bones behind her were still up, Castellar had to be smart enough to keep her from trying to jump to her death. However, surely with his experience, he wouldn't have the control to push her within an inch of her life and hold her there. One way or another, he'd slip up and she'd escape him once more. He'd buy back her time with his own hand.

Castellar was a LV5. Even if Ferris hadn't heard it from Avalbanshee, he'd told her himself. She imagined that meant he was slowly getting used to killing people. Her though? No matter how much it always hurt, she felt she was getting used to dying. That's why it was always an option no matter how much she wanted to avoid it. Somehow, one day, the tears would stop and the long-felt agony would grow dull.

What would that make her by then? Who knew… But she needed some of that disturbing, mistaken fortitude right now.

Ferris shuffled back through the bones once again, another holt of pain ripping through her body. A few steps more sent her over the edge, however, at that same instant, she felt Castellar grab hold of her soul. She hovered in the air for a moment before she was flung across the rock, back toward the safety of the forest. She noticed that, while it hadn't taken as much HP as before, she'd still lost a significant amount of it.

The skeleton yelled her name again, his anger reigniting, "Ferris!"

She laughed. It was an empty, spiteful laugh that scared even herself. Her fingers curled around a large rock and she pushed herself up from the ground, charging forward. She swung it at his skull.

He flung her away again, slamming her against the trunk of one of the larger trees. She hacked up blood. Another large drop in her HP…

"It won't work!" he warned her, "I have healing magic, remember?"

True, but even that was a gamble for him. Castellar wasn't in any state where he could heal himself, nevermind her. It took energy to do so—more-so than other spells—and if he exerted himself any further in his current state, he was bound to pass out. He'd lose her either way, and maybe his own life as well, if she actually felt like bashing his head in. He knew that.

She got back up and tried again. As if to try to prove otherwise, Castellar flung a bit of healing magic her way before following it up with strike to her stomach. It was like a drop in a bucket, only barely managing to keep Ferris' health from dropping further. The price of it shown in the strain on his face.

Still keeping a vice-like grip on her improvised weapon, she tried again.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Both gasped for breath, shaking from the pressure put on their bodies. They were getting nowhere fast: An immovable object colliding with an unstoppable force. When Ferris jumped at him a sixth time, Castellar growled through his teeth and braced himself against the hit. The rock struck him with a soft crack, lines as thin as thread blooming from the injury. He grabbed her by both wrists, kicking her legs out from under her to make her kneel. They wrestled with each other, Ferris summoning enough of a second wind to ram her forehead into his. Even still, Castellar refused to let go.

"Bark!"

The two adolescents immediately froze. A wave of silence passed before the sound repeated itself, alerting them that what they heard, unfortunately, was not in their imaginations. Almost in-sync, they looked for the source across the ravine.

It was the familiar that took the guise of a white dog, its tail wagging rhythmically behind it. Standing next to it with a lax grin was his partner: A man dressed in simple clothes with short, dark hair and eyes that were as rich and as deep a blue as twin lakes. At first glance, there was nothing but his eyes that particularly stood out to Ferris. In fact, he looked rather ordinary. However, it was the remarkable calm with which he observed their fight that shook her to her core.

"No, don't mind me," he said with his arms folded across his chest, his voice almost chipper, "Please, by all means, continue."

They did not. Another thing that bothered Ferris was just how Castellar had gone still at the sight of the man. The other's appearance rattled him so much that he'd loosened his grip on her. She yanked herself free and he hardly even flinched.

"Really? You're done?" the mage blinked at the pair with a fake hum of surprise, "Well, in that case…"

Ferris saw nothing: She only felt the air whip past her as Castellar was lifted off of his feet and thrown across the ground in much the way he'd tossed her earlier. The skeleton tried to get up, but it was as if a boulder was sitting on his chest to keep him down. His eyes glowed as he tried to cast a spell upon himself, but it was useless.

She'd heard of this before. When similar magics clashed, the strongest of the two won.

The man began to levitate himself over the ravine, even while keeping Castellar pinned. Ferris scuttled back as he touched the ground near her, but he walked on by.

"Young lady, I'm sorry for my student's lack of manners," he told her. Without warning, he stomped on Castellar's chest. The boy cried out with a harsh wheeze. "He's been under my wing for a while, but he's as stubborn as they come. I hope you can forgive him."

Ferris didn't respond.

There wasn't one moment in her young life where the girl thought she was stronger than any enemy she ever faced. Not her aunt, whose abuse she had endured. Not the guardsmen that tried to punish her for stealing. Not any of the mages or hunters that chased her for her crimson eyes. Not Castellar, with his immense strength and knowledge of her abilities. No matter what happened, even if she couldn't beat them, she had always fought to find a way around them.

This man, however… He was in another league—to the point where Castellar didn't even really fight back. The boy merely tried to stave off the pressure threatening to crush his ribcage. This mage was truly dangerous.

He briefly took his eyes off of the pair to focus on something at the edge of the woods, "If it helps, we've got a peace offering."

Ferris followed his stare and dropped to her knees. Three other mages she didn't recognize—two humans and one monster—had arrived on the scene. Held tenderly in the monster's arms, unconscious and covered in dust, was her little sister.

"Don't worry. She's perfectly fine."

There was nothing more to be said; nothing that could be done. The fight was over. Castellar was knocked out and both he and Ferris were bound in chains. After marching back to Icefield, the group loaded onto horses and rode across the wild landscape.