The campfire crackled softly as it struggled against the cool night air. The overcast sky visible through the tree cover remained during the journey from Gansberg, but the clouds didn’t burden the refugees with rain. Gus reached for a twiglike branch; in the soft glow he caught Oz evaluating his choice of kindling before returning his own gaze to the paltry flames. Gus added to the burning bundle; the light brightened briefly as the tinder caught. He sat back and nibbled on an oat biscuit. Oz managed to collect a few amenities before fleeing the farmhouse raid, and coincidentally had enough biscuits where everybody got two. As much as he wanted to scarf down the small ration, it was better for the mind to slowly savor it.
Beside him, Rue quietly nibbled at her bar while Blair sulked next to her. Blair were being hard on themself for the fruitless trek into Gansberg; Gus didn’t blame them—he was sure that neither Rue or Oz did either—anybody else likely would have done the same. It’s a good thing that Oz stopped me when he did. There was something else that was weighing on Blair, but they kept to themselves. Gus wondered if they ever confided in Rusuuz, the two were practically joined at the hip—yet neither would divulge their relation to anyone else.
Of all of the people that Guspare could have joined up with, he drew the short straws in the social department. His three companions were so withheld, it almost felt like he was traveling alone. But, given the tension in the air, a strained silence was favorable to bitter arguments. Nevertheless, they weren’t going to make any plans if they all stayed quiet. Gus took a hefty branch and fed it into the fire; Oz’s eyes narrowed toward him in the burgeoning light.
“So, where do we go from here?” Gus’s voice broke through the night air.
“Question for the ages.” Blair muttered.
“Not much of a suggestion.” Gus challenged. “Why don’t we try Argent?”
“The capital?” Oz stared at him. “Have you lost your mind?
“Well,” Gus shrugged “I don’t hear anybody else coming up with anything better.”
Rue piped up. “What about Saeden-Clach?”
Blair rolled their eyes. “So the choices are a millstone and a myth.”
Gus raised an eyebrow. There’s a name I haven’t heard in a good while. A name that rarely gets spoken aloud; however, fairy tales are merely that.
Oz shook his head and fixated his gaze on the fire. “There’s another choice.”
Blair glowered at Oz. “Maybe for you, bu—”
“—but what?” Oz interjected. “You’re going to sit there with a straight face and tell me that constantly running and hiding day-in-and-day-out is any way to live?”
“Some of us believe that our place in the world is worth fighti—”
“Spare me the sanctimonious bullshit, kid.” Oz spat. “How much fighting have you really done, Blair? How much of a dent have you put into the Bloodcloaks’ numbers?”
Blair jumped to their feet. “Just living, being resilient, is a victory on its own!”
“And that’s enough for you?” Oz asked, his incredulity plain to see. “Do you think Rusuuz feels the same way?”
“Don’t change the subject!”
“Are you really so blinded by your self-righteousness to see how selfish you are?”
The light in Blair’s eyes betrayed the scowl on their face. Rue reached for them and gently pulled them down to seat.
Gus exhaled deeply. Now’s as good a time as ever to break this up. “I cast my vote for Saeden-Clach.” He announced with a raised hand.
“Were you even listening?” Oz flashed.
“Of course, and both sides had valid points.” Gus leaned in. “So, I propose this mediation: We try for Saeden-Clach—if it truly exists and we are welcomed into the community, then we have a true safe haven within Arenoor. And if it comes up empty, we’ll work together to leave the country.” Gus opened his palms out. “Does that sound like a fair deal?”
“We should just leave.” Oz muttered.
“Just as Blair said before, you’re more than welcome to leave of your own accord.” Gus stated matter-of-factly. “No one is forcing you to stay if you really don’t want to.”
Oz glared at Gus, then the fire. After a moment, the man turned away from the group to lie down. No matter how much someone tries to appear independent, deep down, everyone still wants to belong and be part of a community. The air was just as tense as before, but there was less of a strain from what Gus was able to determine.
Rue and Blair bundled together side-by-side. “I’m sorry,” Rue hushed “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Things will be better in Saeden-Clach.” Blair uttered barely above a whisper.
Gus leaned back and stared up at the ceiling of clouds. I sure hope so. Saeden-Clach was hidden even before the mage hunters started scouring the land. Its location couldn’t be pinpointed on any map, but if it were, the Zherrai-Myr would waste no time erasing it completely. Reaching it was already a long shot, but Gus balanced optimism and resignation; getting out of the country wouldn’t be any easier, even if they chose the Northern Wastes.
A soft, distant droning pierced the placid night. Gus sat up, unsure if he actually heard anything. Blair and Rue’s lifted heads validated his suspicions, even Oz rose to his feet. The droning echoed again, the unmistakable tone of a train whistle. All four sprang into action. Blair grabbed a branch and shoved one end into the fire, once it caught, they pulled it out. Gus then doused the campfire and stamped out any embers. Blair kept their light bright enough for Oz to see his compass, but dim enough that it couldn’t be seen from afar.
The first steps to Saeden-Clach involved running through a dark forest in the middle of the night, desperation to hop a train and gain some much-needed ground.