In moments they were out of the station, moving through the buildings of Sirra which glinted in moon- and lantern-light, and before long they were again traversing the darkness of the Imfisi plains that Sirra sat within. Only now they weren’t just walking across them; now they were traveling much faster than before.

“Well,” said the younger soldier, “I’m completely beat. Do you guys mind if we get some sleep?”

“Good idea,” said Vish for the rest of them.

The two unhelmeted soldiers stood and pulled down another bench Ryn hadn’t realised was built into the wall above the one they had been sitting on. It folded out of the wall and hung suspended from it by two chains at either end. He, Sagar and whoever else was sitting on his side--Nuthea? Elrann?--did the same with the bunk on their side of the carriage.

With the two bunks folded down, you could just about fit two people lying down one after the other onto each of the four benches now available in the carriage.

“We’ll take the top,” said Tilbrook deferentiality to Vish, and he and the older soldier climbed up.

Ryn took one of the spaces on the bottom bunk on his side. He had no idea who was lying down on the other end of it, but they each lay so that their helmeted heads would be next to each other in the middle of the bench.

“Night all,” said Tilbrook.

And then there was just the darkness, and the gentle rattle and chug of the train as it traveled through the Imfisi plains.

Chukkachukachukkachuckkachukkachukka.

Ryn stared up at the grubby underside of the bunk above him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Well, this was some predicament they had got themselves into. Aboard an Imperial-commandeered train bound for Manolia, stuck in a carriage with two genuine Imperial soldiers, which meant they couldn’t even talk openly to each other. Maybe they should kill the soldiers while they slept? No, that was a horrible idea. That was thinking like Sagar. Even if they were working for the Empire, these two soldiers didn’t seem to be murderous monsters like Vorr. They seemed like they were just trying to get by and do a job to earn a living. They were just following orders. Nuthea was right; it wouldn’t be right to kill them in cold blood. Though he wouldn’t put it past Sagar for the idea to cross his mind, too… Hopefully the pirate wouldn’t do anything stupid. He hadn’t so far, at least, and from the snoring noises coming from the opposite top bunk the two soldiers seemed to be fast asleep.

What was Ryn even doing here? Mother. Father. Hometown. Find Vorr. Kill Vorr. Stay with Nuthea. He wasn’t even certain that General Vorr would be coming this way--it was just his best guess. He shut his eyes. In the darkness and the encasement of his helmet, familiar images started to crowd in on him, invading his mind’s eye. His mother being pierced by a sword. His father’s eyes going out of focus. The Imperial General laughing in his face. How was he going to get to sleep like this, without the cool of the open air and the reassuring chatter of his traveling companions to lull him into unconsciousness?

He thought he would try to talk to Sagar on the bench next to him for a little while. Even that might be better than just lying here in the dark with his memories. Might.

“Sagar?” Ryn whispered as quietly as he could so that only the pirate, whose head lay a little way from his own, could hear.

Nothing. Then: “No,” whispered back a noble, feminine voice after a moment, “it’s me.” Nuthea.

Ryn could barely believe his luck.

He better say something else to her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, quite alright! Stop talking and let me go to sleep!”

That stung.

For a moment there was only the chukkachukkachukka of the train again.

“Ryn?” This time she had spoken first.

“...yes?”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean that. The truth is...the truth is I’m not alright. I’m...I’m scared.” Wow. A rare admission of vulnerability from the lightning-slinging, lecture-delivering princess.

“What are you scared of?” asked Ryn eventually. Stupid question. What wasn’t there to be scared of right now?

“I’m...I’m scared that we won’t make it to Manolia,” Nuthea whispered. “I’m scared that we’ll be discovered. I’m scared that the Empire will find all the Jewels and overrun the world.”

That’s quite a lot to be scared of, fair enough… Ryn thought. But instead he said, “I know. Me too. I’m scared of all those things too, and I’m scared that I’ll never be able to find Vorr again, or that I’ll find him, but I won’t be able to beat him when I find him.”

“You can beat him,” said Nuthea. “You’re doing really well in your training.” I shouldn’t need to hear her say that, thought Ryn, but I sure like that she did. “If you continue on as you are doing you are only going to grow more powerful in the use of your gift and your swordsmanship. But, Ryn…” She paused. “Ryn, by the time you do find him, and I’m sure you will be able to find him again, you might not want revenge on him any more…”

Ryn’s brow furrowed inside his helmet. Why would she say something like that? He thought of Vorr again, of the man with the thick-set jaw and the flaming red hair, laughing in his face. At the very thought of him, Ryn’s hands grew hotter and the tips of his fingers tingled.

“There’s no way I’m going to stop wanting revenge on him,” Ryn whispered to himself as much as Nuthea. “He murdered my parents and destroyed my hometown. Why would I ever not want to take revenge on him?”

Nuthea took a while to speak again. Eventually, she whispered, “It is not the Way of the One. The Way of the One is to forgive.”

Ah, there she goes with her One stuff again. Ryn wasn’t in the mood for this right now. But he didn’t want to be harsh with Nuthea, especially if she was feeling scared at the moment. “Alright,” he said, “well, I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.”

“But Nuthea?”

“Yes?”

“Look, it’s okay to be scared. It makes sense. Like I said, I’m scared too. But you’ve got a lot of people around you right now to take care of you. Me. Sagar. Elrann. Cid. And I guess Vish too. We’ll take care of you and make sure you get to Manolia, alright?” I’ll take care of you, he added in his head, but he didn’t quite find the courage to whisper it.

“Thank you, Ryn,” said Nuthea. “I am glad of that.”

Ryn smiled inside his helmet.

“Hey lovebirds!” someone whispered from the bunk above them.

Ryn spasmed and nearly fell off the bench. He hadn’t realised anyone else could hear them.

“Stop talking so we can get some sleep!” Elrann whispered again.

“Yeah!” whispered someone else from above. No, not Sagar too! “You’re lucky those two bucketheads are sleeping like babies, or you might have given us away! Quit yammering and go to sleep!”

“Sorry…” Ryn whispered back sheepishly.

They ceased talking. Ryn’s blush had come back to his cheeks, and he was even more grateful no one could see it. As it slowly faded and the tingling in his fingers died away, he thought of his conversation with Nuthea, listened to the chukkachukkachukka of the train, rocked with its gentle movements, and eventually felt himself slipping into sleep.