When Ryn’s grief had subsided a little, it left only anger at Nuthea.

He lost track of the time he spent by himself on the side of the Zerlanese hill brooding on the revelation that Nuthea had been the person who had told Vorr where the Fire Ruby has been hidden.

Part of him wanted to walk away now, to abandon the group and strike out on his own. A large part of him wanted to get away from Nuthea. He felt so much anger at her for what she had done. Hot, roiling anger that choked his lungs and made it hard to breathe whenever he thought of it.

But something held him in place. Over the last few weeks--months? How long even was it?--he had grown extremely fond of Nuthea, and he knew he was extremely attracted to her. This new revelation had brought with it a deep ambivalence about all of that. Why did have to have been her who had betrayed his hometown to the Empire? He was extremely attached to her, but now he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive her, either. That just made him all the more angry.

The sun climbed higher in the sky. Nobody came to fetch him or check on him. Maybe they had moved on already. No, Cid wouldn’t do that. Nuthea wouldn’t do that either, damn her. Perhaps they were letting him have some space...

In the end, he knew he only had one choice.

The thing that he knew he wanted to do more than anything in the world-- and he only knew that he wanted to do it more than ever now--was to continue to practice in the use of his flames and of a sword, to find General Vorr again and to kill him, to avenge his family and hometown. To continue to train with a sword, he needed to stick with Cid. To find General Vorr again, he needed to finish making his way to Manolia, where the General had gone. And the best chance he had of doing all of that was if he stuck with the traveling party. He needed their money, the supplies that it would buy, their guidance, their ability to teach him, and their protection on the way.

That means staying around Nuthea, for the time being. Damn it.

He supposed he would just have to tolerate being around her for a bit longer. But he didn’t have to enjoy it, or to talk to her, did he?

Oh how he hated Vorr. Oh how he hated him all the more now. It was Vorr who had given Nuthea the opportunity to betray her homeland. It was Vorr who had gotten her to reveal the location of the Fire Ruby to him. It was Vorr who had...seduced her…

“Raaargh!” Ryn punched a fist into the sky, and a jet of flame shot from it up into the air, disappearing somewhere above the clouds.

That made him feel a little better. But only a little.

He got to his feet and began to make his way back up and round the hill that he had been sitting at the foot of, back to the top of it where he had left the group.

They hadn’t gone anywhere. They had just stayed there and waited for him, apparently.

When Ryn arrived back at the group, everyone was sitting down, except Vish and Cid, who were standing up facing each other, having an argument.

“I’ve told you,” Cid was saying as Ryn came into earshot, his face red, clutching his bag of Healer’s supplies tight to himself, “you’ve got to space out the hits, or they’ll diminish too much in intensity, and it will be harder for you to eventually come off the poppy.”

“And I’ve told you, old man,” Vish growled, “I don’t want to come off the poppy. The poppy is what makes me feel good. The poppy is what makes me feel alive. The poppy is my life.” His fingers twitched.

“But don’t you see?” said Cid. “That’s no way to live. There’s so much more of life to experience, to be alive in. The poppy doesn’t make you more alive. You’re losing your life to it.”

Vish went silent. Dangerously silent. He stared death at Cid. Now his hands bunched into fists, and Ryn fancied they were trembling ever so slightly.

“I don’t care,” he said at length. Ryn couldn’t see his teeth under his face covering, but he was pretty sure they were gritted. “Taking Poppy makes me feel better than I ever do any of the rest of the time. It’s the greatest feeling in Mid. Nothing else compares to it. It’s the only thing that makes me feel anything. I want it, old man.”

“Be that as it may,” said Cid, “you need to space out the hits or the next one won’t even feel as good as the last. And, if you space them out far enough and start to come off it, you can start to feel other things too. It is possible. I’ve seen others do it. I’ve helped others do it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why would I lie to you?”

“Because you’ve only got a limited supply of poppy and you need to keep me under control with it to keep me around.”

“I can see why you’d think that, but that’s not what’s actually going on here. And I...I actually have quite a large supply of poppy in here…”

“Then give me my poppy, old man.”

“No.”

Silence, full of intent.

Vish leapt at Cid.

“GIVE ME MY POPPY!” he shouted, and he was on top of the Healer, grabbing for his satchel, trying to rip it out of his hands.

“Oh!” Cid exclaimed, clutching the satchel even more tightly and trying not to let Vish get it as the Shadowfinger knocked him to the ground.

“Hey!” said Ryn, running forwards to help. “That’s not okay!”

When he reached them Vish’s elbow shot out into his face. Pain flared in Ryn’s nose and he staggered back, putting his hand to it. He stared at the blood on his fingers.

The others ran to Cid’s aid too. Ryn blinked the shock away, then joined them.

More elbows, fists and feet flew, and Ryn took another two strikes to his arms. But eventually between the four of them, he, Nuthea, Elrann and Sagar managed to wrestle Vish off of Cid and pin him to the ground, taking a limb each.

The Shadowfinger was a vicious and brutal fighter, but it seemed that when ambushed from behind even he could be bested. By four of them, at least…

“Crazy scumsucker…” Sagar said exasperatedly as he held down one of Vish’s arms. The skin around one of the skypirate’s eyes was turning black. “Why shouldn’t we kill you right here and now, for that?”

Click. The sound of Elrann cocking her pistol as she held another of Vish’s arms down. “I’m thinking that might not be such a bad idea. There was no need for you to attack Pops here. Get it together, bountyhunter. I’ve used this on you before, and I’m not afraid to use it again.”

Ryn noticed something. Elrann didn’t have any bruises on her. He looked over at Nuthea, holding down the opposite leg to Ryn. Neither did she.

Even in the melee of what had just happened, Vish had been precise enough not to hit either of the women, on this occasion. But he had given Ryn a bloody nose and several brusies, and Sagar had a black eye. Did he have some sort of code? Some sort of honour that had come into play? Or...had part of him wanted to be subdued?

“It’s been a week now,” Vish growled at Cid as the old man stood up and walked over, as if he hadn’t heard anything that Sagar and Elrann had said. “It’s well past time. Give me some poppy.”

“I’ve told you,” said Cid, standing over them. “You’ve got to space them out if you want a chance of coming off it. It’s that or stopping completely all at once.”

“I’ve told you!” Vish shouted back. “I don’t want to stop. The craving is too much. I want the poppy, old man. GIVE ME MY POPPY!”

He strained, and for a moment Ryn worried he might overpower all four of them, but they managed to keep him pinned down.

Elrann pressed the barrell of her pistol to Vish’s temple. “I mean it, bountyhunter,” she snarled. “Calm it down, for Yntrik’s sake, or I fill your head with lead.”

Vish shut his eyes and went still again. He seemed to have been defeated, in body and spirit.

“I know it’s hard,” said Cid. “I’m sure it’s the hardest thing in the world, or one of them. But if you stop, young man, in time the craving will go away, and you will awaken to other parts of your life.”

“It won’t,” said Vish in a small, sad voice, his eyes still shut. “I won’t. I’m too far in, old man. The damage is done. Please, just let me have my poppy.” Please? Ryn had never heard him speak like this.

“It will,” said Cid, “trust me.”

Vish was quiet for a long moment. Ryn shared quizzical glances with the others. Had he gone to sleep? Given up? Was he gathering his strength to try to overpower them again?

Eventually, Vish said, very quietly, “How do you know?”

“I’ve seen others do it,” said Cid at once. “I told you. You’re not the first to be addicted to poppy and come off it. You have to trust me. Trust the experience of others.”

“It won’t work for me. Please, just give me my poppy.”

“Ok, listen,” said Cid. “I can see that you’re very upset by this, and it has been quite a long time since your last hit. I would have liked to start spacing them out more and earlier than this, but I can see that you’re going to need some more persuading until you decide that you’re ready to do that. But if I give you poppy seed right now, you’re going to be useless to us, and we won’t be able to keep going unless we carry you.”

“That’s why I asked you for it now!” Vish snapped, opening his eyes and scowling. “The boy there had gone off for a sulk, and who knew how long it would be until he came back and we could keep moving?”

Ryn felt himself bristling.

“True, but he’s back now. Hello, by the way,” Cid said, nodding at Ryn. “So I’ll make you a deal. Keep walking with us for now, and when we stop to rest for the night, I’ll give you your poppy then. Alright?”

Vish shut his eyes again for a moment.

“Alright,” he said, very deliberately-sounding and very quietly.

“Good. Well done. You can let him up now, folks. I believe him.”

Slowly, cautiously, they let go of the Shadowfinger and allowed him to stand up, eyeing him closely as they did so. With some reluctance, Elrann put the safety mechanism back on on her pistol and stowed it in its holster on her belt.

“Well, I’m glad that entirely pointless episode’s over,” said Sagar. “We best be off.”

They spent the rest of the day hiking through the Zerlanese hills in the direction that Elrann indicated for them. Up, down, up, down; taking care to look out for any signs of Imperials whenever they reached a vantage point at the top of a new hill. None appeared. Ryn’s shins began to ache from the hill-walking, but it was nothing compared to the torture he had experienced at Vorr’s hands on board the train. He was grateful that Cid had been around after that to heal him.

He stayed at the back of the group so that he could see where Nuthea was and deliberately avoid her. She walked about twenty paces in front with Sagar and Cid on either side of her, and Vish and Elrann about another ten paces in front of them leading the way. Just once Nuthea looked over her shoulder at him, presumably to check where he was. But only once.

Stupid Nuthea. She probably doesn’t even realise the wrong she’s done me. How can the others just carry on with her so easily? He supposed her actions hadn’t led to the destruction of their hometowns, so they didn’t have the same reason to be angry… He kept walking despite his anger. Find Vorr. Kill Vorr. Get away from Nuthea.

Elrann turned out to be exactly right--she knew the geography of this area well enough. Just as the sun was beginning to dip into its final descent beyond the hill-line, they sighted a settlement. Wooden houses and cabins were built right onto the tops and sides of three hills.

“Nevva!” Elrann said when they spotted it. “We’ve found Nevva! I used to come here with my mother for holidays in the Summer!”

“A holiday…” said Sagar. “That sounds about right. Just what we need right now.”

The town had a calm, peaceful sort of feel to it. The people were polite but reserved, acknowledging their arrival with nods and smiles but keeping out of their way. Although that might have been because they were still dressed in Imperial armour.

But there were no genuine Imperials to be seen. Elrann explained that even though Zerlan was a vassal state of Morekemia, like all the other countries in Dokan, the Empire saw it as so small and insignificant that there had never really been much of an Imperial presence here at all. And apparently this applied to the invasion too--the Emperor hadn’t even seen fit to invade Zerlan, but merely passed it straight by on the way from Sirra.

“Why does he care about it so little?” Ryn asked Elrann.

He was surprised when Nuthea answered for her. “Because what he is really interested in is the Jewels, not military occupation...”

Yeah, thought Ryn, because you told him where to find them. He did not reply to her.

The innkeeper at the inn they stopped in--another wooden construction named ‘The Cheese Wheel’ for the picture on the sign outside of...a wheel of cheese--confirmed this. Because they were all still in their Imperial armour, except for Vish, which didn’t matter, he thought they were Imperials, and gave them special treatment. He told them they hadn’t seen any signs of the invasion, except the occasional movement of Imperial airships in the distant skies, and only knew about it from rumours and hearsay from people traveling from Imfis who had got out just before the occupation. He was extremely obliging, perhaps fearing that Zerlan was next on the list for invasion, but Sagar made up a story about them only being out on patrol to keep the peace and ensure that nobody from Zerlan tried to revolt against the occupation of neighbouring Imfis. The innkeeper offered them free room and board for the night, but Cid inisisted he take their coin for it, claiming that it was only proper, and that it was the Emperor’s policy.

“Why did you do that?” Sagar whispered to him as they climbed the creaky stairs to their rooms.

“We can’t exploit him and take his food and rooms for nothing just because we’re still dressed as Imperials,” Cid whispered back.

“Why the hell not? Suit yourself, old timer, it’s your coin.”

The inn had two separate dormitories for men and women, as was Zokanese custom, so they parted from Elrann and Nuthea at the top of the stairs. Ryn felt a pang in his chest when Nuthea said an abrupt “Good night,” and turned to go into her room without even looking at him, or any of them. But he was only angry at himself this time for feeling it.

There were no other travelers staying at the inn, probably because of the recent invasion, so they had the room to themselves.

“Now will you give me my poppy, old man?” Vish said the instant their door was shut.

Cid paused for the briefest of moments. “...yes. I said that I would, after all. And my word is my word.” He rummaged in his satchel and eventually brought out another of the small black seeds, which he handed to Vish.

Vish didn’t thank him, but pulled down his head scarf, revealing his blackened mouth, and popped it in at once.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh,” he sighed, and fell back onto one of the beds immediately. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It looked quite enjoyable, really. Ryn wondered if he should try it, to sleep better and escape from the night- and day-mares that plagued him, even just for a little while. But no...it clearly led to not being able to stop and became all-consuming if you started taking it. He had enough demons and emotional baggage to contend with already.

“What a loser,” said Sagar. “Time for a bath, methinks.”

While they had been eating their dinner of bread, cheese and wine the innkeeper had filled a bronze bath that stood in the corner of the room with hot, steaming water.

Sagar took the first dip for himself, and Ryn couldn’t be bothered to fight him for it. He didn’t stay in it long though, and Cid offered Ryn the second.

The water was still very hot, and as Ryn lowered himself into it, trying not to think about the dirt from Sagar’s body that was now in it, his muscles relaxed in the enveloping warmth and it soothed his shins. He couldn’t help from letting out a sigh of relief.

Bliss, he thought, or the closest I’ve got to it in a long time.

The others appeared too tired to talk, and Ryn was no exception, so he lay enjoying in the bath and his mind was left to wander.

This was not a good thing.

The usual thoughts crowded in on him at once. Mother. Father. Hometown. Find Vorr. Kill Vorr. Get away from Nuthea.

When he thought of Nuthea, he couldn’t help from imagining that somewhere, in the women’s room, she might be having a bath too. Somewhere, she might be taking off her armour and dress, and getting into the bath, and soaping her... In spite of himself, the thought made him hard. But it wasn’t like he could do anything about that right now, in the bath, with Sagar and Cid and Vish in the room. He shifted his legs around, hoping that they couldn’t see, and tried to direct his thoughts somewhere else, to focus on the warmth of the bath, to let it soothe his aches. Eventually his erection went away and he washed himself, then got out of the bath to let Cid have a turn.

He dressed in his underclothes and hit the bed, which was firm but comfortable. He was asleep in a matter of moments.

His sleep was deep, but he dreamed of many things. As usual, he dreamed of his mother being impaled on Vorr’s sword, of the houses of his hometown all aflame, of the light going out of his father’s eyes. He had thought and dreamed of these things so many times by now that even as he dreamed of them he knew that he was dreaming, and simply watched them happening again, aware of this, with his sleeping mind’s eyes. But then he had a different dream. He dreamed of Nuthea getting undressed for her bath, pulling her dress off over her head, and in his dream her breasts were full and round and her nipples were big and pink and covered in goosebumps. Somehow again though, he knew that he was only dreaming and that he was imagining this based on the few occasions he had seen a woman breastfeeding in Cleasor and caught a glimpse of her bare chest. He could not look lower than that in the dream, because he had never seen what things looked like lower than that.

Then Vorr appeared in his dream again, in the imaginary room where Nuthea was about to have her bath, in his black suit of armour, his huge sword on his back, flaming hair exposed. He took Nuthea by the hand and they began to dance together, she still naked, their bodies moving in time together, and she giggled and jiggled and twirled for him.

“Tell me,” Vorr crooned in the dream. “Tell me everything. Tell me your secrets. Tell me of the Jewels. Tell me where the Jewels are. Tell me where the Lightning Crystal is. Tell me where the Earth Emerald is. Tell me where the Water Sapphire is. Tell me where the Fire Ruby is.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” cried Nuthea jubilantly. “I’ll tell you everything and more! I’ll give it all to you!”

And then Vorr drew his huge sword and ran her through the chest, just like he had done Ryn’s mother. Nuthea stopped and went still, looking down at the sword, rivulets of red running from where it entered her, making trails over her white stomach, then looked up at Ryn, seeing him in the dream for the first time.

“You couldn’t save me,” she said quietly to Ryn. “You didn’t do anything to rescue me. It’s all your fault. You’re a failure.”

“NO!” Ryn shouted, and woke himself up, lathered in sweat, sitting up in his bed.

“Oh will you just shut up, pup?!” Sagar complained from the next door bed.

Cid was standing over him. “Don’t worry, lad. You were having a nightmare. Again.”

Ryn blinked and looked around. The bedroom in the inn. The middle of the night.

For some reason his mind had forgotten that that last part was a dream.

He was panting, but eventually his breathing slowed. Cid mopped his brow, which was covered in sweat, with a cloth and gave him a sweet-tasting herb to chew. Ryn turned over onto his other side and chewed it, trying and failing not to think of Nuthea being seduced by Vorr to reveal the location of the Jewels, and then of the memory of his horrible nightmare. But eventually the sweet scent of whatever herb Cid had given him overpowered the memory and he managed to get back to sleep.

He did not dream again that night.