Years later, he still couldn't tell exactly what happened - one moment he towered over her, finger jabbing her shoulder, then he felt a sharp pain throughout his hand, forearm, shoulder, and the dull impact of the floor as his back hit it from some height. He coughed, winded, and blinked to clear his vision.

Ekalin stood over him, her face an expressionless mask. But he remembered, mere moments earlier, the cold, sharp flash in her eyes. He saw it just a second before she reacted; time froze as though to ensure he'd never forget. He broke a precious trust; he invaded another's sacred space. He then knew the truth of her earlier words, as one who steps into the untamed forest after visiting only gardens. Arn indeed knew little of the real world.

That flash of an expression was gone now; the fear of it weighed him more than the pain he felt.

"You touch me again, and I will throw you back out into the forest in whatever you're wearing. If you freeze and die, I will gladly allow your corpse to feed the local bears," she whispered, then walked off to the workbench.

Arn stayed on the floor for some time - initially, it was because of the pain.

Idiot, such an idiot.

There was nothing he could do now. Several minutes later, Arn got up, his arm hurt, but nothing seemed broken, his back was stiff, and he was sure that he'd feel the consequences for days. He walked off to the bed that Ekalin gave him - before I jabbed her - sat down gingerly, and looked at her working on something at the other end of the hall. He sighed, shook his head, and lay down.

He closed his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come - Arn tossed and turned, his mind going over the events of the day.

The night took its time passing. He finally made up his mind at what he imagined was just before dawn: he would gather his supplies and leave. Arn didn't want to face Ekalin again - she can find me if she wants to, but hopefully, she'll just leave me alone, he thought.

He got up as quietly as he could and went about gathering yesterday's supplies into his backpack. He put the emberwood with mixed emotions - but the sense of preservation won over his pride this time. The very last item was a waterproof canvas to cover himself with; he picked it up and latched one strap to his pack. He froze as movement caught the corner of his eye; looking towards it, he saw Ekalin sitting on a chair and watching him calmly.

"Good morning," she said, a weighty expression on her face.

Arn mumbled incoherently, but she ignored it.

"I owe you an apology," she said somberly, "this isn't - " she chewed on the inside of her cheek, "my reaction was out of proportion to the admittedly stupid thing you did. I'm sorry, I feel very guilty for letting my anger overrun my actions, no matter what you said or did, that was a mistake."

He'd never expected her to apologize. Was she really sorry - why would she apologize; what could she gain from this?

"Sit, Arn," she motioned to a chair, "I should explain some things before you go." Her voice gained a calm tone, as though a veil was cast over a part of her he'd seen by chance.

"When you told me that your Tjoreal was lost and destroyed, that was more significant than you know," she said.

"Why?" Arn asked, despite himself.

"The Tjoreal - it's made to be with you at all times," she spread her hands, "you shouldn't have been able to lose it, nor destroy it."

"I didn't," Arn whispered.

"She, then, shouldn't have been able to destroy it either."

Arn's eyes widened, and he looked at Ekal, "Then how?" he asked.

"I have no idea, and that is what scares me. I bet that is why the Inspectorate is so keen on you."

"We made it in the academy. We made it," Arn insisted.

"You think so, don't you."

"What?"

"The Tjoreal you have - had, rather - isn't something you made, not entirely," she said.

Arn stared, she continued.

"I don't know much about the way it is made, but I do know that it is blessed and purified by Inspectorate agents. Each time you gave it to your teacher for review - well, it didn't return quite the same."

"I don't - why, why would they want that?" he asked.

"There is much more to the Tjoreal than most people know, and that includes me; I can see the questions in your mind. But I do know a few things. What concerned me was that it's made to be very hard to destroy and impossible to lose."

"But how?" Arn asked.

"I don't know how," she sighed, "it just is. I've never heard of anyone losing the thing, and the only times it was destroyed - the Inspectorate was involved."

Arn noticed that there was more tea. While he did his best to sneak out, she managed to make tea, which she now sipped.

"Have you noticed your limitations without it?" she asked.

Arn thought back to the time in the cell when he tried to light the candle, "yes," he said.

"Do you know why?"

"No."

"Have you heard of Esarel and Sanarel?" Ekalin asked.

"Yes."

"Esarel is your internal life force, and Sanarel is nature's ambient energy."

"I heard," he frowned.

"I am just making sure we're on the same page before I go further. The Tjoreal somehow connects you to nature's energy - Sanarel. Since it's everywhere, you aren't limited by distance from the source," she pointed at him.

"I can't connect to it without the Tjoreal?" he asked.

"You can't, no."

"And you?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter right now."

"You can," he stated, her words triggered a series of connections in his mind, and quite a number of things began to make sense.

"When you use Esarel, you have perfect control. It's part of you, like an arm or a leg. But it is limited, like an arm or a leg. After a few feet of distance, it diminishes to nearly nothing," she said.

"But there's still a limit. With the Tjoreal bracelet, it doesn't diminish; it just stops at a certain distance," Arn said.

"It does stop, yes," Ekalin agreed.

"Why?"

"The Tjoreal itself, probably."

"The Tjoreal limits us?" Arn exclaimed.

"Well, that's perhaps not completely accurate - you wouldn't be able to access Sanarel without it, so can you say it limits you?"

"I don't know," he muttered.

"Yeah."

"What does this have to do with everything, with the hand, with the legends, with all of it?" he asked.

"Sanarel, it has to do with Sanarel."

"The energy of nature?"

"Yes. It's all around us, it's unlimited, it's unlimited power."

"I don't understand," Arn lied.

"You will. Eventually, you will." For the first time, Arn had the impression that she didn't catch his lie.

"You're treating me like a child again," he said, unsure where he was going with that.

"I am not. There are things that only experience can teach; I can't explain it to you." There was nothing in her tone to indicate that she thought anything aside from what she said.

"Fine," he relented.

"Let's get your supplies." Ekal was already on her feet, standing next to his backpack.

"So they all want power; they want this nature's energy, is that it?"

"Something like it, I suppose." She brought out a sleeping bag and a small pot. "Leave this at Tower of Het; I will get there to pick them up."

"I will use Sanarel on my own, too," he said, "without the Tjoreal."

"Maybe. Have you packed all the supplies you'd gathered?" Ekalin patted Arn's backpack. Arn nodded. She listed everything off just in case, and it turned out that he missed several items. Embarrassed, he had to bite his tongue from thereon.

He didn't forget the emberwood, at least.

Arn didn't think he'd get much more out of her on the topic of the Tjoreal, or the hand, or anything else he wanted to know about. She made up her mind, it seemed. He couldn't complain. He learned much, he got supplies, and he wasn't dead.

"You remember the route?" she asked one last time.

"Of course, I memorized it, and then memorized it, and then again for good measure," he quipped.

Ekalin only smirked at that. "You better not mess up my perfect record."

"What record?" he asked.

"No one died under my watch; it's a point of pride, you know."

"I'll be fine -" before he could finish, Ekalin hugged him tightly. Arn was shocked into silence. When the ranger let him go, she chuckled at his expression.

"Off you go then," she told him. Arn nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, by the way," she called, "Khoar'Sae is the sacred Raven guide - kin of Elar'Saga."

"Oh," was all he could say before she turned and left into the hut.

The journey to the Tower of Het took three days, and without impossible avalanches, there were few surprises. The emberwood worked as promised, even wet and on the snow. The first night he had trouble putting it out until he remembered that it had to be covered by a thick leather - something or other.

The thing looked like a large hat, the leather layered as thick as a finger. It was one of the items Ekalin reminded him to pack before he left.

The Tower of Het was built at the northern end of the mountain pass and close to the river. Arn had been going downhill for hours before he saw it - the structure reminded him of what The Old Fort must have looked like before it was destroyed.

He looked back one last time and saw Ekalin far in the distance - too far to hear anything he could shout. He shook his head and waved at her. She waved back and disappeared swiftly.

Of course, she followed me, of course.