Miinhart Forest, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

They reached Freyhall many hours later. The moon was up, draping the forest in its soft, eerie light, comforting in some sort of way. The trip had been tiring, and Stephanie welcomed the prospect of settling down for the night. They didn't dare enter the town; they set up camp a mile or two away. Annabella opposed the idea of a fire, but Terrence started one anyway. Stephanie didn't bother to take sides. She only watched, quiet, as the two bickered back and forth. Annabella was certain a fire would give them away. Terrence's cocky side was showing.

The fire wouldn't give them away. They were perfectly safe. Annabella didn't understand it yet, but she would soon enough.

Stephanie understood. She understood it all very well.

The night crept along like a slug — unbearably slow and boring to watch. Stephanie sat against a tree, watching the embers of Terrence's fire die out. Sleep refused to come, no matter how tired she might have felt. Was it the immortal blood in her veins holding her out? It was almost a curse, she decided, to be so strong. She hadn't even explored the full extent of her strength — the river was merely a small test. Was it really true that she hadn't been able to tap into these hidden abilities until she had known the truth of her heritage? It was as if she had been handed a key to a locked door in the recesses of her mind. She was scared to walk in, afraid of what she'd find, afraid of what she'd become.

Todd and Jessie were both asleep, and Annabella lay still — Stephanie wasn't quite sure if she was asleep or not. Terrence sat across the clearing, his sword on his knees, staring out into the night — he had claimed first watch, and Stephanie was surprised the others had agreed so willingly. Exhaustion, probably. Matthew lay beside Stephanie, his head on his arm, his eyes closed. His even breathing told her he had finally drifted off.

He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping — his features softened, relaxed, reminding her that he was still very young. She reached out with gentle fingers, tentatively brushing the hair out of his face. He didn't stir. His skin was warm against her fingertips.

They were still so young. Just two kids with heavy burdens given them by a cold and distant god.

Was it possible that she had only met this boy two weeks before, sitting at the bottom of a pit, helpless and hopeless? In such a short amount of time it had been made very clear that neither of them were normal, not even fully Human. She had trusted him immediately, not only because he had been her only chance at escape, but because she had seen his heart. It was pure. Wounded, yet pure.

He trusted her. She had seen it in his eyes at the river, in the way he had taken her hand. His Warmth had been so comforting, and she had caved into it, gathering up the courage to take his hand again as they were walking. He hadn't pulled away, even when the others had exchanged looks about it. He stood by her. He trusted her.

"How far?" she whispered softly to his sleeping form. "How long?"

It's the only way any of us will survive what is about to happen.

Terrence stirred, pushing himself to his feet and wandering to the edge of their little camp, looking out into the forest. He seemed restless. She understood the feeling all too well. Rising to her feet, she left Matthew's side to join Terrence's. He didn't turn at her approach.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" he asked, his voice light. "Peaceful. Serene."

She hardly knew this boy, and yet he held her trust. Such fragile trust. Such desperate hope.

He lifted his head, looking up at the sky. "So many stars."

"Yes," she breathed. Her heart was heavy, set in stone. "They're beautiful."