Mikhail's snores quietened down during the rest of the night, as though subconsciously he knew he had to keep quiet. Nothing else had bothered them, despite to noises Elora had heard from her post at the base of the tree.

When the sun had risen and Nyal had awoken she allowed herself to get a couple of hours while he practised. It was something he had been doing since they escaped the cavern and had healed up completely. He would gather the water from his flask, spinning it around himself like he was fighting an invisible monster. She had smiled at his show of strength as she'd drifted off to sleep.

The sun was still low in the sky when she woke, casting a warm orange glow through the forest. She couldn't have slept more than two hours. She caught a glimpse of Nyal's back as he made the water flow around the tiny clearing.

Standing up with a stretch, she could see that Mikhail and Ragen were still asleep, pressed against one another on a branch they shared high up in the tree. That was not what I created them for, a disgusted voice told her.

"And what did you create them for, father?" she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper, "Your own entertainment? So you could watch what happens when they are left to their own devices? Well, that's what happens."

Yararanje said nothing in reply, leaving her mind peacefully silent. She thought back to a week ago, he had yelled at her for hours, loud enough to keep her from sleeping. It took yelling from both her and Nyal to quiet him down enough for her to rest.

Elora shook her head, already angry and she had barely been awake ten minutes. Nyal noticed then that she was awake, stopping his new morning ritual and wandering over to her, water hovering in a ball behind him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a common question she was quickly getting sick of hearing. She only nodded, not bothering to answer. He would probably be able to tell what was wrong anyway.

There was silence for a while, Nyal's eyes drifting up to Ragen and Mikhail and smiling at the pair. "Father doesn't approve," she told him, despite her thoughts.

"Who cares what he thinks," Nyal replied. He had grown bolder with his remarks about her father over the weeks they had spent together, even though he knew exactly what the powerful god thought about them. "If he can't even come down here and help his people, what gives him the right to judge what they do?"

Yararanje said something then, but Elora didn't care enough to pay attention. Over the years she had learned to ignore his remarks if they were quiet enough. Years and years with a voice in her head taught her how to push it away when she needed to. It wasn't like he was going to help her in any way.

"Elora?" Nyal called, pulling her away from her thoughts. "Did you want me to have another go at your wings?" He gestured at the sore appendages, worry pulling at his features.

She shook her head. "No, it's only a few feathers that need to fall out, and then I'll be alright," she said. "I can already fly properly again."

Nyal nodded, "Alright," he said. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"Okay." A silence lingered over them, not an awkward or uncomfortable one, but one that told each other that they were alright, that they were going to be just fine. She sighed, feeling relaxed for the first time that week. She stretched out her wings, raising her arms and yawning loudly.

They stayed like that for a long time, Elora becoming lost in thought. She found comfort in Nyal's presence, despite everything that had happened between them. Her mind took her back to Fiume, to the night where the kingdom's farms burned to the ground. The same night Nyal told her that he had seen the dragon and done nothing about it. She had been so angry at him, all her trust in him obliterated in the two seconds it took him to say the words. She had spent the night flying about, hoping for any sign of the hybrid and only seeing the orange flames dance against the dark ground, something that had only angered her further.

While they weren't the nicest things to think about, it was much better than panicking about the Zlohiel. Besides, she had forgiven him. They had both made mistakes, serious ones, and they were facing the consequences for them. And even though Yararanje thought differently, Elora was mostly convinced that even if Nyal had told her, they still wouldn't have been able to catch Darren.

Nyal sighed, breaking her from her thoughts. "I had better go and wake those two," he said, vaguely gesturing towards Ragen and Mikhail. She nodded, watching silently as Nyal climbed the tree with perfection only found by years of practice. He shook at Mikhail's shoulder, saying words she couldn't make out. The big man startled awake, tightening his grip on both Ragen and his sword.

"By the Gods," he cried sleepily. "You scared me! I thought something was wrong." Ragen woke at his voice, eyes quickly widening when he realised with Nyal was seeing them together. Looking down, he caught Elora's eyes, who only raised an eyebrow at him. Her father may have an issue with what people do, but she had seen so much, nothing bothered her anymore.

It seemed to bother Ragen however, as he scrambled away with a glare at both Nyal and Elora and climbed down from the tree before Mikhail could say a word. He stalked past her, wandering off into the trees. She knew he wouldn't go far.

"Don't worry," she could hear Nyal saying above her. "We really don't mind. I'm sure Elora's seen it all before, and I believe you can do whatever you want."

"And the Gods?" Mikhail asked pointedly, to which Nyal said nothing and Elora thought back to the conversation they had had before. She didn't feel guilty, it was something they obviously already knew, lying to them would be pointless. "Exactly. Thank you anyway." With that, the lycanthrope climbed down from the tree, nowhere near as graceful as Nyal or Ragen before him. He nodded politely to Elora as he passed.

Mikhail came back out of the tree not long after, holding berries of the same kind they had found the night before. Her stomach growled when she saw them. She hadn't realised she was hungry, she hadn't even felt hungry all week.

Mikhail shared them around at evenly as he could, saving a small portion for Ragen for whenever he decided to return. Elora dug in hungrily, eating faster than she ever had in her life. As she popped another berry into her mouth, she felt Nyal staring at her.

"It's good that you're eating properly again," he said, relief lacing his voice. She only grunted in reply, wiping juice from the corner of her mouth.

Ragen returned not long after that, sitting on the grass with an obvious gap between him and Mikhail, politely taking the berries from Elora. "Eat," she said to him. "And then we leave."

With their stomachs full and the little bags they had packed and a quick check by Nyal that they were going in the right direction, they set off south once more. Every now and again, either she or Nyal would check they were moving in the right direction. She couldn't do it as much, unable to fit her wings through all the branches between her and the sky, but if she climbed high enough and pushed off, she could soar in the air once more.

With the sun to her right and her companions below her, Elora flew peacefully in the air, wings spread out at her sides. She had missed it, flying, unable to do much when she was with Nyal as he could not do it, and too injured to do so after the Gate was opened.

Despite being high in the air, she couldn't see how far they had to go before they reached the south of Veridun, or even where the trees ended, meaning that it would be at least another day. She let out a blissful sigh, pretending the far away calls of the flying monsters were actually the birds she was so used to seeing. She pretended they were chirping to each other, cawing, searching for food, ignoring the reality of the Zlohiel looking for their victims.

Knowing she needed to get back to Nyal and the others, and that her still injured wings couldn't hold her for that much longer, she swooped back down to the trees. Her boots landed nimbly on the leafy branch of a tree and she pushed at the long dark hair that had fallen in her face. She climbed down quickly, her cloak billowing high around her to reveal the black trousers she wore underneath.

Nyal looked at her in question when she landed on the ground a few metres in front of the group. She shook her head with a shrug, falling into step with them as they trudged through the dirt and grass and leaves of the forest floor. Nyal only sighed, an irritated noise that spoke volumes about their situation.

Ragen and Mikhail were picking berries and edible leaves nearby, the latter humming as he worked. Packed in bags on Mikhail's and Nyal's back was all the food they had. There was still plenty left of the food they had been given by Queen Astor in Fiume, but eventually, it would run out. They had to gather as much as they could as they went, even if it was just berries and the like.

Once again, she found herself thinking back to Fiume, more in fear and worry than in the anger and guilt that usually accompanied such thoughts. She didn't know what had happened to the city, but she could make an obvious assumption. The Zlohiel would have destroyed the city like the obstacle it was, there would be nothing left, the queen that had always been so nice to her would be dead.

They are all dead, or soon will be. Before you even have a chance to stop it. Her father's words were like a razor, sharp and deadly.

Despite Nyal constantly telling her not to listen to the God's words, she knew there were times where he was right. This was one of those times. Vulpor and Fiume were so close to the Gate, they would be destroyed quickly, or taken over. Whatever Gaizma wanted them to do to the kingdoms. There was a high chance that even Skodur was gone by now.

The only places that might have a chance of survival were Ammos, far far in the North, where they would most likely die of thirst before they had reached it (they had had a very long and very tiring conversation the first night after the Zlohiel were released, where Ragen had mention that very point). The other being the scattered kingdom of Planina in the mountains to the west.

They were headed south, towards the kingdoms of Riba and Voda, the former being the most defended in all the realm, as well as Nyal's home. He had thought that if they went there, they would have some chance of being safe, and maybe finding something along the way to help them. She hoped that going to Voda and Riba would provide them with any information that could help with the defeat of the Zlohiel, but she still doubted it. There hadn't been anything the last time she had fought the Zlohiel, and she was sure there wouldn't be anything this time around.

She hoped that they would not have to go that far, that Riba and Voda would be enough to help them and keep them safe. It would be somewhere where they could stop for a while, think things through, and find out how to deal with the threat the realm now faced.

They wandered for many hours, the sun reaching its peak in the sky and dropping back down until the blue sky faded into oranges and pinks. They walked in nearly complete silence, all ears open and listening for danger.

And danger there was, lots of it. At some point around the middle of the day, Elora had grown fed up with walking, knowing that she could spread her wings almost as well as she could before the fight at the Gate. She had flown high in the air after they had stopped for a break to eat.

Once again, she had seen nothing to tell them that they were anywhere near getting out of the warm and silent forest. What she had seen was a black winged shape flying right for her. Her first thought was that it was Gaizma, that he had somehow found her. She was prepared to fly down and protect Nyal and the others with all she had.

Lucky for her, it wasn't Gaizma. Instead, it was a lone harpy, flying around most likely in search of food. It had seen her not even a second after she had seen it and was flying towards her before she could blink. It was a quick takedown, however. Elora gathered her magic, pushing the creature away with the darkness, listening to is whoosh through the air. She had wrapped the magic around its wings and pulled, watching the harpy fall wingless to the ground, blood falling like tiny waterfalls around it.

Ragen had disturbed a vampire's nest only a few hours after Elora's incident with the harpy. The two warlocks had quickly dispatched most of the five that had come out, with Mikhail transforming and taking out another. She had watched from the sidelines, ready to jump in if back up was needed.

It went like that during the night too. Fighting any monsters that dared to disturb them, Nyal healing any wounds they sustained during the fights. Sleeping for as long as they could before something else came along. Walking just that little bit further to somewhere just a little bit safer.

It seemed that all they could do was fight and walk and sleep and eat. Survive as best they could against the hordes of monsters. None of them knew how long it would last, how long they would last. She wasn't sure if any of them would live much longer.