His joints ached as he came to a stop. Like usual, Barret forged ahead of the tribe, making sure the path was clear for them. His speed, agility, and natural woodsman endurance made him the perfect scout, while Raine led the tribe in his stead. They had come to respect her, especially the other humans and Keidrans, who had seen how she acted in Durlon. Still, they had been running for so long, everyone was tired, even Barret. Pulling his bow off of his shoulder, he knelt down to the dirt. The road was well traveled now, they could not get by unseen. Three days ago they passed a caravan of merchants, who thankfully found the tribe more of a curiosity than a threat, even offering to sell food and supplies to the weary and worn down Ishtaer. Still, the fewer eyes that saw them, the better, as it would only be a matter of time before they were seen by someone who was less kind, and more prone to run screaming to the Templars.

As he knelt in the dirt, he frowned. The ground was scarred and torn here, with a dozen discarded and broken arrows scattered around, hints of blood staining the soil, a shattered dagger, and torn pieces of cloth strewn about. It wouldn't have bothered him this much, but the blood here was fresh, less than two days old. But what really unsettled him was the clay. Shards of hardened clay littered the ground, chips and fragments of orange-brown. His eyes were able to pick out the bootprints of humans, the pawprints of a few Keidrans, but two sets of very heavy prints stood out. He had never seen them before, never paid attention to what they really looked like, but he knew what they were from. Sentinels.

Standing back up, he turned around, but then he stopped. There were no bodies, no fallen soldiers, no trails of blood. Scowling, he pushed the thought aside. The way forward would be dangerous now, but far easier than going back. An hour later, he found the tribe had come to a halt next to a small creek. "I know we're all tired, but we can't afford to stop." He whispered to Raine, who was sitting on a log.

"I know, but it was Haelith who made us all stop. We're all beyond tired, we're exhausted, and some people are actually starting to get sick. We only stopped because someone collapsed while they were walking." Barret looked over to see Haelith kneeling beside one of the humans, their skin pale and breath shaky. "When we get to Edinmire, we will all need medical attention, even you."

"I'm fine. Sore, but-"

"No." Raine put her hand on his shoulder, pulling him down next to her. "You're just as exhausted as the rest of us, if not more so. You have the burden of leadership on your shoulders, the responsibility of keeping us alive. I can see it. You haven't cleaned your scales off in weeks, you toss and turn in your sleep, you're on the brink of collapse when we stop for the night. We all need a break. You need a break."

"I know. But we can't stop, especially now. The path seems clear, but there are signs of a skirmish ahead. It looks like a pair of Sentinels ambushed someone, but I couldn't tell what happened to either side. There were no bodies, no trails of blood, nothing."

"Sentinels? Again? What are they doing out here?"

"I don't know. They haven't been this active in centuries. They have been nothing but lone soldiers of stone for ages, whispers in the night, but now they're out and active? What happened? What changed?" Raine had no response to this. They sat, tired and sore, their joints aching and longing to stay sitting, but they both knew that it was too dangerous to stay here. "I'll go see what we can do to help. We have to keep moving." Walking through the tribe, Barret could not help but meet the gaze of the tired and weary souls. Skin, fur, scales, it didn't matter, they looked spent. He could see that many of them were malnourished, with ribs showing under their skin, while others were pale and worn out. No one talked, no one moved, no one did anything but rest. As he approached, Haelith looked up at him and tried to smile, but her absolute weariness pulled her down. "What happened and how can I help?"

"Overexertion. She collapsed without warning. It was an unfortunate mixture of both stress and exhaustion, compounded to cause heart problems. She'll be fine for now, but we should let them rest. We're all so tired. I know we have to keep moving, but… we're going to end up dead before we reach Edinmire."

"I wish we had horses or carriages. It wouldn't solve all our problems, but it would certainly make things easier."

"Same. But that would have restricted us to the roads, and we would still have to worry about the horses becoming exhausted. I hate to say this, but it wouldn't have helped very much the last few weeks."

"Regardless, we need to keep moving. If I fashioned a few stretchers or sleds, would we be able to pull the sick behind us?"

Haelith turned away, thinking. "I don't think it would help as much as you think. We would end up wearing down someone else just for the sake of one person recovering a bit faster. I know we can't leave anyone behind, but we can't stay here either." Barret frowned, his mind trying to come up with any other solution, and finding none. "How close are the Templars? Can we afford to wait a few hours here?"

"I'm not sure. I went ahead, not back. But I doubt we can wait too long, especially since there are Sentinels in the area."

"Why didn't you say that sooner?"

"Because it wouldn't have changed anything. If we can't move, then we can't move. I know everyone is tired. Even I'm tired." Haelith smirked as he said this, and lightly chuckled. "What? Sure, I grew up in the woods, but I'm still a mortal just like the rest of you. I can get tired, it just takes a lot more. I also know how to hide my exhaustion. You can't track a deer when you can't keep your eyes open, so I learned to push it away."

She sighed, and the smile quickly faded. "I know. It takes a lot to bring you down. But when we get to Edinmire, we will need to rest, and there won't be time for that. Even now, the Templars are on the move, closing the gap behind us. Who knows when they will notice that they are inadvertently chasing us? What do we do when they send scouts ahead of the column? We can't stay here, we can't take the road, we can't take the open country, we can't fight back. We're trapped. Fate had been with us for so long, but now I'm not so sure. It's like misfortune has made a net around us."

"We'll get there. I promise, we all will get there. I promise, we will survive."

"How can you promise that? We might get there only to die in battle the next day, or even the same day! If they attack Edinmire, I know that you can't stay back and rest while everyone else puts their lives on the line. I can't sit there and watch as people are injured and die to protect me. We both will help however we can, and we both might not make it."

Barret reached over and looked her in the eyes. "I know we will make it. I will make sure you survive. I will fight the entire army myself if it means protecting you, I will lay down my life to keep you safe."

"And I would do the same with you." For several seconds, they remained like this, locked in each other's gaze. But Haelith stood up on shaky legs, and Barret stood with her. "A sledge would be enough right now. I can care for them better tonight, when we are all stopped."

"Then it shall be done. I will go make one and pull them myself if I must." Barret gave her a hug, and walked away to the nearby cluster of trees. A short while later, he came back with a frame similar to the one he had made when he led Trace over the Kedaria mountains. Making sure the fallen human was secured, Barret handed his bag off to someone else, and began leading the tribe forward once more, the weight of leadership literally on his shoulders.