“Milo?” Vigilante whispered as she woke up, half dreaming and still feeling his hands on her chest. In her dream, he had touched her, caressed her, he had taken away her pain. She looked around and saw him lying next to her. She had never seen him sleep before. He didn’t seem to need sleep, but here he was, obviously sleeping in the middle of the day. Why had she been sleeping? Then she remembered.

She looked down on her bandaged chest. She couldn’t feel anything, which was odd... She looked up again and saw the other two. So, they were reunited again. It felt strangely reassuring. She had never traveled in a group like this before, always alone on her missions. This was something else, and she liked it. Sure, it was getting on her nerves, but it was also comforting to be surrounded by friends. Perhaps they weren't really friends, but what did she know, she had never had one before.

“Why is he sleeping?” she asked. They turned their heads towards her and she was surprised to see them both smile. Vito never smiled towards her...

“Ah, you’re already awake. Marvelous!” Qumo said, and he seemed so happy that she couldn’t help but return the smile although she had no idea of why he was smiling like he did. Surely she couldn’t have been that hurt if she didn’t feel anything now?

“Amazing!” she heard Vito exclaim, and she became even more confused. Last time he looked at her he’d been shooting daggers with those white eyes of his.

“What are you smiling about?” she blurted out, but the others just smiled even broader.

“You were hurt quite badly, Vigilante. We feared this would require a long recovery, but it seems like our Io in disguise worked his wonders on you,” Qumo told her. She looked at him and just shook her head, not knowing how to react.

“What?”

“He healed you Vigilante, but I’m afraid we can’t tell him that, he had no idea of what he was doing, and you know how he feels about this so I don’t believe he is ready to hear it just yet.”

Qumo’s voice echoed inside her head. She touched her chest, lifted the bandages and saw a long row of stitches covering her chest, stitches that seemed to have been sown onto her unscathed skin.

“How is this possible?” she asked.

Qumo chuckled at her words, but he didn’t answer; he just kept stirring in the pot in front of him.

“Is that why he’s sleeping?” she asked. This time the N'aian looked up at her again and nodded, confirming her theory.

She scooted over so she could reach him, touch him. She felt for his pulse and touched his forehead. She didn’t know why she did it because he seemed fine, just very much asleep. It felt awkward to be touching him, especially in front of the others so she let go even though that was the last thing she wanted. She found herself taking hold of his hand, the hand the others couldn’t see. She squeezed it, just as he had squeezed hers the other day.

“Thank you!” she whispered.

-----

Milo woke up to a cloudless sky. He glimpsed stars in between the trees and the scene left him confused. He hadn’t slept in a long time, and it had been a decade since he had slept so many hours in a row. What had happened?

He looked around the small clearing and saw Vigilante sitting up with her back against a tree. The other two were sleeping, Vito spasming slightly as usual. She met his eyes and he couldn’t believe that she was sitting there. It shouldn’t have been possible with the wound she received mere hours ago.

He rose and approached her.

“You should sleep, Vigilante. That wound you got needs time to heal, your body needs time to heal,” he reproached her. It was a strange reaction, but he didn't know what to think, or how to react.

She just smiled at him in response. He knew he should feel relief to see her looking so healthy, but he was still worried.

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” she answered, and he began to realize that she actually was okay. She would be okay...

“I’m glad,” was all he said, but he winced as he heard how cold it came off. He felt that he wanted to tell her so much more, but he just couldn't. She seemed to shrink a little where she sat and he regretted that he didn't know more about these things. He didn't know anything about making other people feel better. What more, he certainly didn't know how to apologize.

“Go to sleep, I’ll take the watch,” he said, finding that it was the only thing he could say.

“Fine, I’ll sleep.”

She answered with her old voice, the uncaring one, the one she hadn’t used with him for a while. Somehow that voice made him sad.

She rose and he took her place. He followed her with his eyes as she laid down, and didn’t leave her for a very long time.

-----

Qumo turned in his saddle, looking anxiously at Vito as he had done repeatedly throughout the day. They had started out early, urged onward by the possible threat of the Judges coming back. He had no idea of why the Judges were chasing them, and that disturbed him. Motive was everything. If you did not know the motive, then it was hard to predict the course of action they would most probably take.

They were approaching the border into Westerland, and he knew they would have to be alert. They would not be admitted across, so they would have to find a way in that didn’t require any dealings with the soldiers. On the positive side, the Judges weren’t likely to follow them if they managed to get into the other country. They had no jurisdiction in the closed country, and they weren’t particularly liked either.

After another mile they happened upon a small village. He couldn’t remember this one, but perhaps that wasn’t so strange. He had not traveled in this part of the world for a very long time.

“We should try to buy some provisions, and see if we can gather some information,” he told the others. Milo didn’t look happy, and Qumo could understand why. The more people that saw and remembered them, the more likely it was that the company of Judges would pick up their trail.

However, he had another motive for stopping. Vito was still very weak, and it didn't seem like he was getting any better. The young man needed as much rest as they could afford to give him.

They bought their provisions from a grumpy middle-aged man, and left the village as fast as they could. They decided to set up camp just outside of the village even if it would have been good to sleep indoors, in real beds. Vito certainly needed it, but they couldn't take any chances.

As the afternoon became evening he and Vigilante braved a visit the small tavern. They needed information, so they couldn't afford to be too careful. Hopefully they would spot the Judges in time if it came to that.

He had urged Milo to stay behind with Vito, partly because Vito needed the company, and partly because it was less likely that the people would talk freely if a Nyx came with them.

As they entered he realized that this place was filled with people that held the characteristics of Westerlanders. They wore their traditional clothing: the men wore shawls that covered their faces, while the women wore make-up aimed to draw attention to their eyes.

“We seem to have crossed the border already,” Vigilante said in a low voice. He could only agree, this felt very unusual. Westerlanders weren’t allowed passage outside of their country except if they were soldiers on a mission or emissaries, and these didn’t look as though they were any soldiers. It was also highly unlikely that they were out on any official business as they looked too rugged, too thin.

“We should see what we can pick up,” he answered, and she nodded in response.

They approached the bar and ordered a drink. Qumo realized that he had brought the right one along as man after man came up to socialize with Vigilante. He decided to stay out of their conversations, letting her work undisturbed. Instead he turned to his left, and was happy to find himself in the company of a perfect candidate for gossip: the bard.

“Well, what a pleasant evening. Are you going to put that instrument to use anytime soon?” he asked and was met with a tired smile.

“Sure, I’ll play in a while... So, what brings a Gaian to this sorry place?”

“An excellent question, we have heard rumors coming out of Westerland, and now we’re here to see if they are true.”

“I assume you’re talking of Io.”

“Yes, that is true. We have heard that he has returned, and now we must see for ourselves. The Gaians have always been closely connected with him.”

“Not this time though, and I’ve got this weird feeling that something isn’t right about this Io, why would he choose to stay at such a wretched place as Wyvern?” the bard said, and Qumo raised his eyebrows in question. He realized that he had happened upon a clever sort of man.

“Ah, yes indeed. Very strange. I also find it strange to see so many Westerlanders.”

He tried to sound casual, but the bard seemed to pick up the seriousness in his question.

“They’re fleeing,” the bard answered in a quiet voice while assessing who had potentially heard him.

“Surely not from any war? The current battles are between Easthold and Scia, are they not?” Qumo replied, trying to sound poorly informed. However, the bard didn’t seem to buy it because he chuckled.

“I like you Gaian,” the bard continued, smiling mischievously. “If you want me to say it out loud then very well... They’re fleeing from the threat of Io. Can you believe it? They’re fleeing from their savior, wonderful paradox: if he indeed is Io and not a puppet for the lady.”

“I believe I like you too,” Qumo answered, and they both nodded in recognition as they toasted and drank from their cups.

"So, you've heard of the battles?" the bard asked casually, clearly interested in politics that shouldn't concern him.

"Yes, the latest news are grim. The Magisters in Scia seem determined to make as much damage they can with their raids into Easthold."

"Aye, those Magisters. They're like a disease, spreading further and further. I remember them coming into my village when I was a child. First time I saw them. A scary bunch to a five year-old."

"Yes, they've been very active these last years."

"So they have..." the bard concluded, and took another sip of his ale.

Qumo turned towards Vigilante, communicating that he was done when she was. She smiled in return and began to detach herself from the small crowd of men around her. Qumo bid goodbye to the bard and retreated into the crowd.

They left the tavern for the calm night air, and started to speak almost simultaneously.

“I...”

“Now...”

“Okay, you go first,” she told him, and he obliged.

“I heard some very interesting news, or at least a confirmation of what we have been able to guess so far. Io is rumored to live in Wyvern, and also, he is supposedly in league with Mischka. I also learned that the Westerlanders we saw are in fact fugitives from the threat of Io. Interesting, wouldn’t you say?”

Vigilante nodded. “Yes, that is basically what I heard as well, but I also heard about fires raging across the countryside. Apparently they blame Io for this.”

“Ignorants!” he exclaimed. This was not a development he would have wanted. If the people turned against Io because of Mischka’s interference, his task would become much, much harder.

“The fires are raging because Io hasn’t been here to balance the forces. The end is approaching fast and I’m afraid our Io is running out of time,” he continued.

“Then we will have to convince him of the truth,” she answered, and he saw the conviction in her eyes. She knew now, and that could help.

“I do not think that he is ready yet, but he must be, soon.”

She nodded in agreement to his words, and he felt strangely reassured by it. He wasn’t totally alone in this.

“They also told me of a way to pass the border without attracting the attention of the soldiers on guard duty,” she said, grinning with a little pride.

He smiled, she had proven useful already. He had not dared to ask the bard for that information.

“That is wonderful news! Well, it’s probably best if we leave as soon as we are able, we can rest on the other side.”

He was anxious to get them going as soon as possible. Vito wouldn't have much time left if they didn't find a way to make him better soon, and he felt convinced that they wouldn't find it if they loitered. He guessed that Io was the key. Milo had to accept that he was Io, and for that to happen they had to go on. Milo would have to see with his own eyes that the other man was an impostor.