"Ready the wagons!" Horatio hollered.

Mules neighed in the misty meadows. A commanding voice organised them, making them stand in a row so that the reins could be fastened. Orlando with a "Hup!" and a "Ho," steadied them, as some younger boys hooked the reins in their places and tightened them secure. It was odd for so many of them to embark simultaneously. Likewise, it was not easy to control a small herd when they were used to traveling alone.

"These are one of my most experienced boys. They shall man the other wagons." Horatio motioned at them with his hand and Orlando acknowledged with a nod. Orlando stood by the side of the wagons as the five of them were filled with rations. Fruits mostly and some other 'soupy' dishes made by the girls of the mountain village. It would help his people get through the strain of the journey. He knew that the catastrophe that had befallen his home had most likely taken away the means to keep a full stomach and so, even if they were make-doing with what little food was left for the mean time, it wouldn't last long.

And so, watching their diminished forms recede in the distance, he fisted his palms, gritted his teeth and turned around, his feet apace in the direction of the barn, where the broken wagon lay, awaiting him to rejuvenate it to its former splendour.

The nails dug in with each blow he dealt. Sweat dripped even in the cold. It was a strenuous task indeed. And Beatrice stood by his side, admiring his work and even helping him with the wooden planks.

The wagon, as Horatio had pointed to him in the corner of the barn, hidden from view by stacks of hay (where the goons of yesterday had crashed into with mighty force thanks to him) was incomplete and broken at places. Orlando wondered what was the reason for that.

He rubbed his forehead with a now damp piece of cloth. It had been about two hours already, and he was nowhere near halfway done.

Why?

The wood was rotten in many of the parts. Cracked and creaking, they were not close to being safe for journey.

It had been left like that for years. Fortunately, the wheels were all in good state.

"You should ask for help. This is way too much work for you to undertake single-handedly," Beatrice reasoned. Her hands were crossed over her chest and she was looking at him worryingly.

Orlando flipped both his hands. "The ones capable of helping, have all left."

"Shouldn't the wagons dispatched suffice? Why must you embark as well?" Beatrice was frowning now. Orlando had always find the expression adorable.

He chuckled. "The wagons would have to make two rounds in order to efficiently migrate all of our people."

"Exactly! You going alone would hardly make any difference!"

Orlando stopped. That was true. Should he go out as well? It was unwarranted.

"So, I shouldn't...go?"

"No? Didn't I say so?" She placed her hand on her waist, as if surprised.

"But the sooner we take them and bring them here..."

"Orlando, there is simply no need. You going with them won't reduce the rounds. You'd have to leave people for the next round, only lesser. You see my point?"

He pondered a moment. "And what about my belongings, back at home...?"

"You have the important things with you. Besides, Walter's statements clearly depict how horrific the event was. I doubt the roof survived."

Their houses, with stone exteriors could outmatch even the strongest of storms. But ball lightning? Exploding projectiles like them? Even if they failed to crack the stones, their energy was enough to break through the joints made by the cement. And when the roof gave in? What could be left of the insides? It was hardly worth answering.

The hammer clattered down from Orlando's hand, and the yet kneeling figure tilted backwards, his hips hitting the ground with a thump, palms thrusted in front. It was the loss of hope of anything worth salvaging.

Beatrice came with soft steps, and sat by his side, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "There is nothing that can be done to help this situation. We have each done our part."

"But at least, I should have gone with them. I should have. Instead, they would go in a land of strangers, all by themselves. I know they know where we live. But, how would they react back at home, when they see unfamiliar faces approach them all of a sudden when they have had the idea that we are the only village that is there? Shouldn't we go back to our people, bring them back here ourselves? We need to make them understand what is happening first hand."

Beatrice looked in the distance. "You have spoken wisely. But, they have already embarked, haven't they?"

True. Poor planning. What could they have done in this short notice? But no matter how he thought on this, he should have gone with them.

He left his work and stood up. "No, I absolutely must go."

"What? No, Orlando wait-" her voice was shocked.

But he was already out of the door. He heard the groans of Beatrice from behind and soon, she was following him by his side. "You're so stubborn."

He grinned.

"That is a more effective and logical plan," Horatio nodded. "Besides, I had doubts whether you could get the old cart running in time. You may as well embark now atop another mule. You should reach them within an hour, if the journey is smooth."

"I expect the same," Orlando spoke as he rushed towards the stables with Horatio leading him.

"Here, Alissa!" Horatio waved.

From behind the mules chewing on hay, a little head popped up. A girl, couple years younger than Orlando.

"Bring me a strong one," he said, poking a thumb at Orlando and smirking. She smiled and brought one mule from the sides, holding its reins.

"He's an active one. Try him, good sir." She smiled.

Orlando petted the mule on the front and it gently groaned. They had established a bond instantly.

"I'll take him."

Beatrice fidgeted from his side. She had accompanied him all the way here but had remained quiet strangely.

But now she muttered, "Is this really, alright? Should I accompany you? I feel bad that you'd have to leave alone."

"Or is it the fact that I/you will be all alone. Without my great self by your side?" He leered at her.

"You're unbelievable!" She fumed and took off.

"Hahaha!" He laughed heartily. "I'll see you soon, my love!"

She stopped and looked back at him through the corner of her eye. Then she sighed, and said, "Take care."

"Before you leave, take this. There are some things you must never part with," Grace brought his Book of Gods from the sack and presented it to him. "And should you have the need," a bit more tentatively, she handed him the knife.

"Thank you Grace. It seems you excel at certain aspects that Beatrice falls behind in!"

Grace blushed as she looked at the ground. And as if on que, Beatrice elbowed him. "Oww!" He winced, catching his side but was laughing regardless. "You're so precious," he said to Beatrice as she looked the other way, hands crossed and cheeks puffed.

"I have packed some food as well, Orlando. You'll be out there for a day. Be sure to drink plenty of water. There are three meals, an extra should you feel extra hungry or if your benevolent self wants to feed any children back home," with an air of pride, Mary dictated.

"Aren't you the older one now? So thoughtful." Orlando chuckled and embraced Mary. She giggled.

"Tell Jonathan, I am out hunting or something. I'd return soon." He had a pleading expression, for he did not know what to make excuse for his leave. He certainly could not let Jonathan know the truth yet, in his current fevered state, lest he received a shock.

"You can trust me on that!" Mary said keeping her hand to her chest and raising her chin.

"Aha! There they are!" Orlando smiled ear to ear.

The party was spotted downhill. It was remarkable actually, that he could see them. It did not mean that they were not far. It was quite a ways down till he could unite with them. But rather, it was comforting. He knew when he would meet them, and would not have to make unnecessary haste or worry if he was going fast enough to catch up, or anticipate for that matter, how much further till he made contact.

He heard a rumbling noise come from somewhere. Almost like a roaring. He looked heavenward. The sky was for the most part, devoid of cloud cover, with the peaceful low clouds hovering past the mountains.

Landslides.

Somewhere nearby in a neighbouring mountain.

It was the only conclusion he coulf draw. These trips up and down the mountain could be deadly. The rubble he had encountered early on in the trip while coming here reminded him of the fact.

He gulped and trotted his mule downward, all the while making sure to not cause a slide himself with casual footing, or be in one's path for that matter. But these things happened in an instant. And so, it was only upto hope. Moreover, it was not likely one one would soon follow after another nearby. They were not connected by chains to cause a reaction. He burst a smile at that.

And then he fell.

An immense force shoved him to the side and he lost control of his mule, getting shot out of his back and falling on the ground.

"AH!" He knocked himself down on the pebbled path, and the mule skidded to the side, faltering but managed to keep standing.

Orlando wheezed to catch his breath. He placed his hand on the ground and heaved himself up. Dusting his clothes off, he looked around to see what had happened.

His eyes opened wide.

He was baffled.

A fresh river of water flowed there behind him. A new stream had opened up. He looked up. A new waterfall! The momentum of it had knocked him down.

And as soon as it had appeared- he stared at its source- it just abruptly stopped. The new stream, was gone, leaving only wet marks in its wake to prove its sudden appearance.

Orlando blinked, and then for the first time since he had stood back up, he breathed.

The land, was stranger than he had expected.