“Mmmhmmm.” Solera repeated several hours later, his eyes drooping. He had been reminded, yet again, of why he often did not like spending time with Lem. And now, Camela.

The more they talked, the less he found himself able to listen. Camela, for example. After some extended talk with her, he had gotten the impression that it wasn’t that she was interested in him. She was just… very self-centered. Not to mean selfish, but rather that everything had, in some way, some sort of relation to her that she needed to speak about.

The giddiness of escaping what he had thought was certain death had long left him, leaving him a reality as harsh as before. The fact of the matter was, he was still out in the middle of nowhere. Surrounded by Tornado sect channelers, some of which were Jakovich’s friends and hated him. Presumably the area around them was infested with bandits who would not hesitate to kill him. They were willing to attack the very military of the country in which they lived; why wouldn’t they kill him?

Well, Solera had nothing but the rags on his back. Logically, he shouldn’t be robbed. But that wouldn’t stop him from possibly being press-ganged into a bandit group or becoming food for the hyenas. Anyway, bandits were scummy characters in general. He didn’t want to deal with them.

And all that was if he didn’t try to flee. Solera had not yet given up on his plan for escaping, but he was close. If he fled, then his situation would be even worse. He didn’t understand the local geography at all and he would constantly have to forage or break into village homes for food. Every time he was discovered, there would be some sort of a hunting party sent after him, perhaps even the military.

Lem looked at Solera again, so Solera nodded. “Mmmmhmmmmm.” The border had to be several hundred kilometers by now. He wondered what was going-

“What does that even mean?” Lem groaned at Solera. “I was asking you if you’ve ever been to the capital. Seen the bonsai trees.”

Whoops. “Nope.” Solera said, taking his hand off of Camela’s arm to scratch his head. “Do you guys still need the healforce? I’m running out.”

“I guess I can do without for a little bit.” Camela smiled, blinking her big eyes at him. “But I’ll need help tomorrow.”

“I’ll be okay.” Lem chirped.

“Mhm.” Solera let go of both of them. Now he could drift away from them over the course of the next hour.

What was going on at the border? What had happened to Chianti and Verreaux, who were sieging Fortress Hickory? Were they attacked as well?

Were they even alive?

Solera frowned. He wanted to know. He wanted it so badly. But not even the escorts knew. At any moment, as he walked through this desolate mountain pass, Chianti could be fighting for her life. Or she could be a prisoner, just like him. Or she could be long dead. Solera didn’t want to think about the last possibility.

A flat, monotone voice came out from behind them, amplified as usual by power. “Set up camp. The specialized will scout the village with me. Ponsa will be acting commander until I get back.”

Solera looked around, confused. He could not see any sign of any village in this place. They were technically in a mountain pass, but the mountain pass was situated atop a huge plateau upon which more mountains sat, so it was a mountain pass already far above sea level. Lem had told him that this plateau was called the Thunderslab. Over twenty-five thousand kilometers long, the Thunderslab stretched through practically the entire Tornado and Thundercloud sects. Above it, there would always be dark clouds and rain.

Dark clouds and rain there were, but no village that Solera could see. The guards were setting down their tents as if nothing was amiss, so Solera figured that the village was probably just well hidden or well defended.

Hyena cries sounded out again, causing a stir amongst everyone present. They were, however, extremely far away, and in the opposite direction of where they had been walking for the entire day. Solera closed his eyes tiredly. Even though everything had turned out fine, he was still exhausted by the day’s events. Not to mention injured.

Tonight, he chose meditation. Meditation was much more relaxing than a circulation mantra, which required some amount of concentration at all times. He would do it until he fell asleep.

“We are in luck.” Rasmurnov’s flat voice shot into Solera’s ear after several minutes, causing him to open his eyes. “The village has invited us to stay the night.”

After some dialogue between Rasmurnov and some of his subordinates, the tents were repacked. Solera and the other prisoners were led to a long rope hanging from a cave in the side of the mountain. They were told to climb up, but some, like Camela, didn’t have the strength, while others were too cold or too injured. He was one of the last ones to go into the cave, but when he did reach the top he helped pull others up.

The caves. They were like the tunnels Solera had gotten so accustomed to, only carved out of stone instead of dirt. Tiny and narrow, winding and dark. It was not until they had walked a hundred meters in the dark that the tunnels began to be lit.

“Ohhh.” Lem gasped as he looked at the lights. “Chargelights. Been a while since I’ve seen those.”

Solera took a look for himself. The chargelights were strange contraptions, channeling items which used power to illuminate the surroundings. The Grove used captured fireflies and the military camps used lamps which burned animal fats, so this was his first time seeing such a thing.

After walking another five hundred meters, the tiny tunnel they were in opened up into a small valley within the mountain itself. Built into the sloping walls of the mountain were countless tunnels just like the one he had emerged out of, connected by steep mountain paths and an intricate network of cables. Ledges which otherwise could not be reached had tunnels carved into the mountain walls they protruded from, and flowing water wound its way down the mountain in zigzag motions around the tunnel holes to form a lake in the very center of the valley.

Solera’s eyes widened with shock. A nondescript mountain could actually hide a village like this? No, could this even be called a village? Depending on how deep the tunnels were, this place could easily house several tens of thousands of people! Even though the outside was just a bunch of holes, Solera could only try to imagine the vast and complex tunnel system lying behind it. It boggled the mind.

“The pows will be housed in that tunnel.” An old woman lifted her hand, which was encased in a jet black gauntlet, up to point at a small hole on the other side of the valley, around four hundred meters away. “They must be kept under heavy guard. Understand?”

“Understood, senior.” Rasmurnov bowed his head slightly, then glanced over at his subordinates. Solera and the others were herded around the edge of the small lake and led to the small tunnel the woman had selected. He looked at the lake’s far edge as he walked. The water simply poured over the edge, presumably turning into one of the countless waterfalls Solera had seen in these mountains. This place was astonishingly well-hidden.

Several kids, all around Solera’s age, ran out of a tunnel high above them. They stared down at the captives with wide eyes. Solera looked up at them, his eyes tired. He remembered when he had been a kid who had seen nothing. That was only a short time ago, yet it seemed like ages had passed since he had been that Solera.

He looked back at the lake. Its tranquil waters made him remember the peace of the Grove. It wasn’t at all like this village, but he was reminded of it nonetheless. He remembered running through the vast fields of crops, walking up the gnarly steps to the tree he had called home. It really did seem so long ago.

Even the events of only a week before was a distant memory. He remembered the intense emotions he had felt when he had watched Guinness die. Now, when he thought of Guinness, he only felt empty inside. His home, as well. Even Chianti’s face could not cause him to feel any particularly heavy emotion.

That was so strange. When he first looked at this mountain village, he was beset by more emotion than when he thought about Guinness just now. All his memories seemed devoid of meaning compared to a mere mountain village or a waterfall.

Solera’s lips hardened. He knew why. It was because he was a decisive person at heart. He didn’t dwell in the past, he lived in the now. Lem was right when he had told Solera to focus on what was in front of him. Only, Solera had always done that. Ever since Fortress Hickory, he had done it.

Take things in stride and keep on going. It was the way he coped with everything. The way that he kept his psyche intact from all the sorrow, the blood, the death that he had seen. If it meant that his memories became distant and bleached of emotion, then that was fine. It was the price of staying sane, of being decisive.

Being decisive, in essence, meant taking everything in stride. It meant never hesitating, which meant never dwelling in the past. It meant that no matter what happened, he needed to keep going. Being decisive was what had kept him alive in battles. Now, he also knew that it was what kept him going after the battle had finished.

He turned away from the lake, a glint in his eye. Funny what sort of thoughts watching some moving water could evoke.

Several hours later, some more shit flowed down the wrong rivulet. He sighed and laid back on the floor. Just like everyone else, he was in one of the hundreds of tiny cells, separated only by metal bars, in the vast cavern the tunnel had led to. The cells sloped downwards, and had two ruts in the ground through which two rivulets of water flowed down the mountain. One was supposed to be his toilet, and one was supposed to be his bath and drinking water. Clearly, some people had forgotten which was which. Fuck them to Heaven and back.

It was better than the conditions outside, Solera supposed. He didn’t know until now how sick he had been of the rain soaking through his robes and into his skin. Many prisoners had completely stripped off their blue robes in favor of the floor. After a while, he had talked himself into it as well, and did not regret it in the least. The floor was freezing at first, but had warmed up very quickly.

He heard some more giggling as another village child climbed down from a hole in the tunnel above them. The kid, a wide-eyed girl Solera would guess was ten years old, hung upside down in the air with a rope tied around her ankle. Somewhere above her were the other kids she was with, whispering and laughing.

“Get the fuck out of here!” A prisoner several cages down from Solera shouted at the child. It was the old man who had fought Jakovich with him the other day, he realized. He had not seen him for a while, as they kept being split off into different groups.

“Eeeee!” The child squealed as she rotated around to face him. “Drink the poo! Drink it! Heehee!”

Solera grimaced. So there had been no accidents after all. It was just that these kids were disgusting!

Solera rolled on his side to look at the old man, who had gotten up and dipped his hand into the flowing water.

“Idiot kids.” The old man grumbled. He turned around and flung something at the child, causing her to scream in fright.

“Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!” She shrieked. “Take me back! Take me back!”

The rope was pulled back up, and her shit-covered clothes disappeared into the hole she had come from. The old man washed his hands in the rivulet for a while before lying back down.

Solera rolled onto his back, an amused smile on his face. Just as he did, the girl dropped into the corridor again.

“Bad man!” She yelled, tossing a rock at the old man. “Really bad! Stupid fucker!”

Another pebble was thrown, bouncing weakly off the old man’s back.

“What do you think you are doing!” A loud shout came from the front of the corridor as Jumpy charged in.

“Oh oh!” The girl froze, then glanced back up. “Take me back!”

She tossed a rock at Jumpy, causing him to flinch backwards. Seeing this, Solera laughed quietly to himself. These kids were disgusting and annoying, but his opinion of this girl had greatly improved.

“You!” Jumpy screamed in rage, causing Solera’s smile to disappear. “I’ll kill you!”

He bounded forward and grabbed the girl by the shoulders as she was being hoisted up. All the prisoners instantly got up, looks of either shock or amusement on their faces. Solera crawled up to the bars, his eyes wide. This guy wasn’t serious, was he?

Jumpy yanked down on the girl, causing some shouts from up above. The end of the rope fell down out of the hole as he tossed her onto the ground.

“You don’t throw rocks at me!” He screamed maniacally. “I’ll kill you!”

“Hey!” The old man shouted. “She’s just a kid! Get off her right now!”

Jumpy savagely kicked the child in the stomach, sending her rolling over several times next to a cell that held a young man, who had just woken up from the commotion.

“I’ll kill you!” Jumpy yelled a third time. The girl was curled up in a ball, crying uncontrollably as Jumpy approached.

The drowsiness instantly left the young man’s eyes when he saw the child up against his cell.

“Stop! Stop it! You can’t frame me for this!” He thrusted his hands out of the bars in a frantic attempt to push Jumpy away.

“Kill you! Kill!” Jumpy was about to stomp on the girl, but the prisoner grabbed him and pulled him into the bars of the cell. Bawling, the girl got up and stumbled away from Jumpy.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Jumpy screamed, sending out a blast of flame from his gauntlet. Solera shouted, wrenching at his bars. They didn’t budge.

The prisoner screamed and let go of Jumpy, falling to the ground. Before anyone could react, a huge flamestream erupted out of Jumpy’s hand, enveloping the young man in a scorching inferno.