Rusk and Iraiah moved quickly through the forest just outside the capital city’s walls. The wall was circular and encompassed the entirety of the city, and as they walked through the trees that steadily swallowed it in the background, Rusk marveled at such a structure. But then he got over it and kept tracing his steps after Iraiah’s, hoping she wasn’t about to betray him. She’d already dragged him away from Gedresial. Who else was she willing to sacrifice? Surely not him, since her actions had proven that much, but Rusk didn’t want to be saved if it cost the life of someone else.

“We have to go back for him,” said Rusk. “If not now, then in time to get that necromancer’s spell off him.”

“Wow you really got a lotta attachment issues, huh?”

“What is your problem?” Rusk grabbed her by the shoulder and swung her around harshly to face him.

She stared at him in a bored manner. Her cape and cowl fluttered in the breeze, which smelled a lot fresher than the dead stink of the capital slums.

“My problem is I have a rescued person who isn’t very grateful, that’s my problem.”

Rusk let go.

She straightened her cloak. Popped the collar and shifted the rest of it so it swayed flat on her body. She was a lot skinnier than him, Rusk noticed. Easy to overpower. He had to give her credit for risking herself for him in the midst of all that necromancer nonsense. She actually looked kind of malnourished now that he had time to pay attention. But was she really doing all this just because Mandy asked it of her? What made Mandy so special? He scoffed. He knew the answer to that. Anyone who knew Mandy knew the answer to that.

“That where we’re going? Back to Mandy?”

“You know I’m the only one who’s allowed to call her that.”

“Bullshit. I knew her first.”

Iraiah stomped off in a huff, waving Rusk after her. She blatantly walked off the beaten path and deeper into the forest.

Rusk followed undaunted. A forest was familiar, and the Elva reached out to him here so vividly he knew he could handle anything that could impede them even in his state of hunger and fatigue. While the sweat dripped down his temples and back he pulled the Elva Bow to the ready, just in case.

“Mandy’s got it covered, you know.” Iraiah glanced back at him and hopped over a bush. No fear. Maybe there wasn’t anything at all in this forest.

“Got what covered?”

“The monsters.”

Rusk stopped for a split second and blinked in surprise. He jogged to pick up the slack and was soon walking astride Iraiah. By the time they popped out in a clearing full of dandelions and other wildflower, the animosity between them had faded. They had no time for it anymore.

A cottage so like the one she’d grown up in on her own stood in front of them in the middle of the clearing, but Rusk could tell that even though Mandy lived there it wasn’t her permanent residence. The Elva told him as much. And he stowed the Elva Bow and practically sprinted up to her door.

It wasn’t Mandy who opened it to greet him. It was Flow.

She got a hug.

Iraiah skulked inside and disappeared somewhere on the second story, up near the rafters. The hut was simple and full of hay and wood but no sewing supplies, that’s how Rusk knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t Mandy’s permanent residence, besides the initial Elva impression. Mandy wouldn’t ever live somewhere without her supplies. If she couldn’t make things, mend things, do something with her hands, then she’d go crazy. Rusk knew in his soul that that much hadn’t changed. It was an intrinsic part of her.

Flow’s arms went slack and dropped off of him. When she looked into his eyes she suddenly kissed him, and Rusk became lost in sensation, hands everywhere, in her hair in her clothes, everywhere, until she broke away and put her forehead against his.

“Missed you,” said Flow.

Rusk grunted agreement.

“I assume they treated you poorly,” said Flow.

“Obviously. How else would they treat a prisoner?”

“Iraiah.” The warning came from a voice Rusk would know anywhere, even after it had aged. It was Mandy. Mandy really was here.

He looked at her and a sadness descended upon him. She was here, but she was different. There wasn’t a spark in her eyes anymore. Something had happened. Something had changed her. She wasn’t who he’d known. She resembled the Mandy he knew of course, and physically she was the same but older, but there was something off about her, and then with a whoosh of air out his lungs Rusk realized what it was.

The monster was no longer inside her. She was her because she was only her.

A disbelieving laugh burst out of him and he slapped a hand over his mouth to cover it, but it escaped anyway, sounding kind of manic and embarrassing. Not quite the impression he wanted to make after all these years.

“You’re alright!” Overcome with relief he went over, picked up Mandy by the torso and swung her around.

She was light but not as much as he imagined Iraiah, and she indulged him, giggling while she was twirled around. The giggle sounded like it had burst out of her of its own accord as well, and it was so refreshing to be reunited with someone instead of having them torn from him that Rusk didn’t even care Flow was making irritated eyeballs in his and her direction. He put Mandy down and bent over in a fit of laughter.

“I should go away for years and come back more often,” said Mandy, patting his shoulder. Platonically.

And that was the other thing. There was no attraction to her anymore. Rusk thought it odd, but when he turned to Flow and gave her a charming, winning, perfect lover’s smile, the anger floating around in her aura dissipated as well. Something between Mandy and Flow vanished, vanquished by Rusk’s admission though silent, and the entire mood of the cottage changed for the better.