They’d run. Like cowards, they’d run.

Nothing cowardly about staying alive, Liza. The people here need you too.

Demelza huffed at Oberon’s unspoken reassurance as she looked at the bedraggled crew of Dresmondi traversing the wilderness like return-trip pilgrims. Some were bloodied, bandaged, and all unkempt and unwashed with the light extinguished from their eyes. Most of them had nothing but the clothes on their backs. Demelza had made it out with her scimitars and, most blessedly, her mandolin slung on her back. At least there was that to be grateful for.

Weylin was the other.

When he spoke, Demela sighed, smiling sadly at the boy at her side. “No way they’re gonna let us go that easy,” She said kindly, “Besides…maybe it’ll be good to be home. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Demelza herself didn’t believe it, her glass-half-full mentality clashing hard with the bleak reality of their circumstances.

Weylin looked around at the group they had with them. The despair in the air was so tangible he could nearly taste it. It made his stomach turn and his blood turn cold, goosebumps rising on skin in spite of the heat of the day.

At Liza's words he turned to look back in the direction they had come, wondering if the Eldouir would soon be on their tail to chase them the rest of the way. He had no idea what they were truly capable of but he'd seen enough of a hint of their power at the edge of the wall. Their dyrs might have magic but if the Eldouirs had kept control of Dresmond for all this time then certainly their power must be terrifying. He unconsciously moved a little closer to Liza as they walked.

"I am curious to see what it's like now. But I'm also afraid to satisfy that curiosity. I don't want to be the cat..." Yet she was right, trying to escape now just might more quickly lead to their death than heading back home.

Buck up, Buttercup.

Weylin heard Beth's cheery tone. It was very rare indeed for Beth to be brought down by nearly anything. She always seemed to have the answers, or at least a way forward.

We can be more helpful back home than we ever were in Arynn Frey.

Weylin scrunched his nose. What could they even do to actually help the situation? "Are you hoping to run into anyone you know?" he asked. He didn't dare even try to hope because he was afraid of the pain he'd feel if he found out something bad had happened to the people he'd known.

Demelza pursed her lips in a momentary lapse of her cheerful facade. Images of battlefields—or in the case of the Eldouirs, fields of slaughter—haunted her still, their ghosts growing closer. She thought of the familiar faces of friends and family that were now lost forever.

“I don’t think anyone I know is left,” Demelza said in soft honesty, “Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Or maybe…maybe we’ll just have to make some new friends.” Demelza reached over and took Weylin’s hand.

Weylin slowly nodded sadly. He felt the same. It was unlikely they'd come across anyone they had known from before. So many had been lost and even more still during the attack on the wall.

He felt his stomach twist a bit when Liza mentioned new friends but as she took his hand he felt that knot soften again. He was inherently quite insecure and usually felt that he had little to offer others. What was to keep them from deciding he wasn't worth their time? So he squeezed Liza's hand softly and offered her a meek smile.

"And at least we have each other," he said though he couldn't help the slight questioning tone at the end. What would he do if Liza decided he was no longer worth her time? He couldn't imagine life without her.

Demelza smiled. It was easier to be strong when you had other people to be strong for. Weylin was her responsibility—or maybe they were each other’s responsibility. Either way, she wrapped her arm around him and smooshed his forehead to her lips for a big, sisterly kiss.

“Always.” She took his hand again, sighing. “What is it you miss most about home? I mean, the way it used to be.”

Weylin scrunched his nose but grinned and chuckled softly as Demelza kissed his forehead, playfully pretending to rub it off with his sleeve when she released him. Feeling secure again he held her hand as they walked. Beth turn her head to watch Oberon plodding along and playfully bounced over to him, winding herself around his big ole feet as he walked, her tail brushing against his belly.

"The celebrations," Weylin was able to reply pretty quickly. "Just how lively and happy everyone was as they danced and played music and ate and laughed." He smiled absently as his mind moved back in time. He had never been very good participating in such events but he had always enjoyed being on the sidelines and watching. "I think about it sometimes when I'm trying to fall asleep, to the comforting lulling sounds of home and Dresmondi. I feel asleep during so many of those parties just because I found that sound so comforting."

He smiled and nudged her side with his elbow. "What about you?"

Demelza laughed for joy, conjuring up visions of roaring fires and playful music. Ah, the music. Demelza could almost hear it. A lone voice and mandolin could only bring so much color. Back before the world had started to fall apart, they’d had whole bands. Whole choruses of dancing, singing Dresmondi loud enough to shake the earth’s foundation with their jubilance.

“I remember my auntie used to make pudding out of the wild plums of summer,” Demelza smiled, eyes distant, “It was so gooey and delicious I never waited long enough for it to cool. I’d always burn the roof of my mouth, but keep eating anyway.” She grinned. “And then I’d chew on some licorice root to soothe it while she’d rub my back and tell stories of fairies and goblins that lived on the prairies and only awoke in the starlight.”

Demelza’s smile started to fade as she remembered just what happened to her auntie, all those years ago. She wondered if she still danced on the prairies, waking in the starlight just like her stories.

Weylin smiled widely as she talked about all that she remembered. They were good memories, full of sweetness and love and fantasy. But his smile soon faded too. It was all nice and good to think about what things had been like but they had no real idea of what they were walking into now and it scared him. Weylin had never done particularly well with uncertainty, it was like staring down in the darkness of a black lake that was so thick with shadow you had no idea what might be swimming beneath the surface.

They continued on their path for several days until one day they spotted the city in the far distance.

"Liza? What are we gonna do when we get there?"

When Elderkeep came into view, Demelza’s footsteps slowed. She saw the walled fortress carved like a jagged tooth jutting out of the flat Dresmond plains. It hurt to see it. Demelza bit the inside of her lip, feeling tears well up before she banished them. No. They couldn’t afford tears. She squeezed Weylin’s hand tight, so tight her knuckles turned white as she gathered her strength again.

“We’ll start anew.” The sorrow in Demelza’s voice couldn’t be kept at bay. Oberon, who’d been traveling close beside nudged Demelza’s shoulder with his massive snout. Oberon wasn’t a naturally affectionate creature, but the times called for such things. She turned to Weylin, summoning a smile even though her eyes shimmered with tears.

“I’m glad you’re with me.”

Weylin was afraid for what they'd find when they got there. Who would be there? How would they be? Were they unexpectedly thriving or would everything be in ruins. He had to assume the latter was more likely. Liza's grip was returned by him, unwilling to let go even it was a little uncomfortable and painful to be squeezed so hard. It was honestly helpful to focus on that instead of everything else.

He returned her smile at her words, eyes shining with affection and admiration for his best friend. The tears in her eyes triggered his own and he tried to fight them back. "I'm not going anywhere. Not ever," he promised.

Steeling his shoulders and trying to be braver than he felt, he looked back towards the city. "Let's do this."