Ansel Narth surveyed the grassy clearing below through the drizzling rain and pink fog. He sat atop a purple-capped mushroom that stood fifteen spans high, and watched for Crimson Guards. Tonight was his turn to keep watch, and he welcomed the reason to stay awake. Since escaping the prison camp two days earlier, sleep mostly evaded him. Only an hour here or there. The lurking threat the prince could strike at any moment loomed ominously in the back of his mind. He had no intention of becoming a prisoner again; he would rather die before that happened.

High above him, green and purple caps of immense mushrooms blocked his view from the night sky. Raindrops dripped from thick vines that surrounded each mushroom stalk. The thin layer of pink mist was semitransparent, only adding a slight pinkish tint to everything.

The sky was growing brighter with each passing moment. Dawn would welcome them soon enough, and they would need to be on their way. Ansel questioned - not for the first time - if the breakneck pace they kept every day was even necessary. Were the prince, Celibrik, and the Crimson Guard still chasing them? He'd expected to see signs of them by now. But deep down, he knew that the prince would never give up his obsession with him, not until he got his fill of vengeance. Whatever that entailed.

Each night their party searched for a place to sleep that was covered so they could dry their clothes and bodies from the never-ending rain. Sometimes, the rain would slow to a drizzle but never would cease entirely. He looked up at the sky and wet droplets softly landed on his face, soaking into his already wet Shroomveil. Every time he grew tired of the conditions they faced, he reminded himself: I'd rather deal with this than be a prisoner any day. That always reset his mood.

Ansel adjusted his Shroomveil and scooted backward until he was protected from the rain by the mushroom cap overhead. It had taken him a while to get used to wearing the mask all day, but he would rather be uncomfortable than mad. Quite an easy choice. He feared what another full breath of the pink mist would do to him. A shiver went down his spine at the thought.

He looked down to his left, just a few spans below where he was sitting. Three shadowed figures sat together under the cover of another mushroom. They sat in a triangle formation, conversing in low tones. Over the soft patter of the rain, he couldn't make out a word the Aslians said. He strained his ears but knew it was useless. He knew the Aslians purposefully sat that distance away, just out of earshot. They had kept their distance from him and the other humans - besides Zeer - since the first day. What are they saying? He wondered, not for the first time.

The first day they'd all met, Ansel had been dumbfounded seeing the Native Races for the first time. Aslians, Asli, sylvirians, and drows. Such strange names. Some of the men - including Reed - expressed distaste at their request to not be called 'the Native Races' but Zeer demanded that every man oblige them. So everyone did, including Ansel. He didn't mind.

Zeer. Ansel tore his gaze from the Aslians conversing in the shadows and peered below him to his right. Seven sleeping figures were laying in a circle formation, with one figure sitting upright against a massive white stalk covered in vine. He couldn't make out who the person was, but his gut told him it was Zeer. Somehow the man was more restless than he was the past few days.

Ansel stood up, walked over to the vines behind him, and climbed down the mushroom stalk to the ground below. The covering from the immense mushroom cap overhead protected him from the rain on the way down, making the descent easy.

He landed with a soft thud, then carefully stepped over the sleeping men on his way to Zeer, and sat down to his right. He leaned back against the white stalk and waited, enjoying the silence. The bedding he'd set up earlier was at his feet, so he leaned forward, grabbed his blanket, and wrapped it around his shoulders. The soft pitter-patter from the rain echoed all around them. Zeer, who sat with his arms and legs crossed, didn't react to his presence. He just kept staring out into the mushroom forest with a glazed look. Zeer's black hair with the silver streak was pulled back into a ponytail.

Ansel waited for an acknowledgment. What he's thinking about?

A few more moments passed. His impatience grew as minutes passed. He fidgeted with his Shroomveil, making sure it was tight and comfortable. A chuckle came from his left.

Zeer whispered, "You are an impatient one aren't you?"

Ansel smiled behind his Shroomveil. "Yea, always have been."

Zeer yawned behind his Shroomveil in his closed fist. "You remind me a lot of my son."

"What's your son's name? You said he was in the Foundling, didn't you? I might know him," Ansel asked cautiously. Zeer always acted weird once his son was mentioned.

Just as he suspected, the distant look filled Zeer's eyes again, but only for a moment.

"I'd rather not talk about him right now."

"But you brought him up first. I might be able to tell–"

Zeer's eyes whipped toward him, full of sadness and fury. "Why are you even still here?"

Ansel was taken aback. "What do you mean?

"You know what I mean."

He narrowed his eyes at Zeer. "Where else would I go? I have no idea where we are. And even if I did somehow get home, I have no clue if the Foundlings are even alive still. I have nowhere to go."

Ansel looked down into his lap to hide the tears that collected in his eyes. He wiped his face with his forearm. Over the past two days, he'd asked himself the same question many times but had always come to the same answer. He had no home left, and no way to get back. The freedom he had here in Asli was all he had left.

"Then we're in a similar situation, once again," replied Zeer.

Ansel turned his head and studied the man. He really didn't know anything about him, but he trusted him all the same. Zeer had earned his trust. "Are you still wanting to go back home?"

Zeer sighed. "Yes. But like I said back in the camp, I have to follow through with the promise I made to the Aslians."

"What is the promise? How did you even get in contact with the Native Races in the first place, Zeer?"

Zeer locked eyes with him. "They're called Aslians. If we're going to be around them, you better remember that. They don't like that the humans call them 'the Native Races.'"

Ansel nodded. "Aslians."

Zeer nodded back at him. "A group of them attacked us during a Harvest a month ago. I tried to escape but was quickly caught and tied up. They questioned me and the men and learned I used to be a part of the Crimson Guards. They offered us freedom if I could teach them some of our ways. Battle strategies, our history, and so forth. They told me they would return for us, that they wanted to understand us. For what reason, I still don't fully know. But I agreed to what they wanted. Quickly after, the Crimson Guard returned. They swarmed the mushroom forest to counterattack them but found us all unharmed and the Aslians already gone."

"The men in Building 49 quickly came up with ways to distract the guards so I could continue meeting with them during Harvests. Every time we met, they demanded to know more information. I promised to share any secrets I knew with them if they saved us and gave us a safe place to live."

Ansel raised an eyebrow. "You used to be a Crimson Guard? Why did they make you a prisoner?"

Zeer sighed. "That's a long story, one I'll tell you another time."

"But–"

"Ansel, another time." Zeer's face softened. "That's all I feel like saying right now. You can trust me, you know that."

Ansel frowned, but let it go. For now. He sat in silence, thinking over all the information he'd been told.

After a brief time, Ansel whispered, "Do you trust them?"

"I don't trust anyone but my men," replied Zeer. "But I don't have much of a choice do I? They lost lives to save us. They must really want to know what I have to tell them. Why is the real question."

Ansel let that sink in. The Aslians were willing to risk numbers of their own to save Zeer and his men, including him. The secrets Zeer promised them must be worth a lot to risk all of that, he realized.

"Do you plan to give them everything they want Zeer?" Ansel whispered.

Zeer's face hardened. "After everything King Vlidian and the Viberium Council did to me, I am willing to do anything to see them fail."

What has King Vlidian done to him? he wondered but he knew the man wouldn't answer.

"Do you know where they're taking us?"

"They won't tell me anything yet. They fear if they do, and we get caught before arriving, we will be forced to share their secrets. A healthy precaution I think," Zeer responded. "One I had to take with you not long ago." Zeer picked up a giant leaf that covered a piece of hard bread. He broke off a chunk, pulled his Shroomveil down slightly, and popped it into his mouth - then covered his mouth with the Shroomveil.

"So we're going somewhere unknown to humans, and you don't know what the Aslians want completely until we get there? And Prince Dayne is likely chasing us using Celibrik and an army of Crimson Guards?" Ansel asked incredulously. He knew the situation was bad but he'd been hoping Zeer would have more answers than this.

Zeer chuckled as he broke off another piece of rock-hard bread. "Ansel, you don't have to come. No one is forcing you. You can either join us and make a life out here in Asli or try and return to Reven on your own. No matter what, the prince won't stop looking for you though. We both know that. You can choose to fight the wind or let it push you along, but a choice must be made all the same."

Ansel leaned his head back against the stalk and stared off into the rain and pink mist. He's right. What do I do? He knew deep in his heart he had no chance of making it back to Reven on his own. His spiraling black tattoos would mark him until the day he died. He really had no choice the more he thought about it.

"I'll follow you and see where they take us. I see no reason to leave the only friend I've made behind." Ansel knew his life as a Foundling was over, but he had always held out hope.

Zeer nodded as if he expected that answer. "Let's see where they take us. Things will be better than back in that prison camp, I can promise you that. Someday, once I've fulfilled my promise, you and I will find a way to get back to Reven."

"That's the plan then. We help the Aslians until we can return back to Reven. Maybe I'll find some Foundlings still alive there," Ansel replied, hope spreading within him.

They both went silent. He knew in his heart that was a fool's hope.

Zeer stood up after a brief time. "Come. Let me introduce you to the Aslians before we head out for the day. You should try to become friends with them if we're to be stuck with them."

Ansel nodded, stood up, and dropped the blanket around his shoulders near his bedding. He carefully stepped over the sleeping members of Building 49. Some were tossing and turning in their sleep. Reed slept while using an odd-shaped rock as a pillow. His neck will be hurting in the morning. As they exited the mushroom cap covering, rain slowly soaked into Ansel's hair, sending a cold chill down his back.

The three Aslians still sat in their triangular formation, whispering to each other. The light of early dawn slowly rose behind them in the distance. As they walked up, Ansel felt a pang of jealousy that they didn't need to wear Shroomveils. Zeer told him the Aslians didn't require the masks to breathe, that the pink mist didn't affect them. Something about them being born here so they were used to the mist.

Feldund, the humanoid shape made of thousands of overlapping vines and roots, stood up, arms spread wide in greeting. "Welcome my human friends, come sit with us before we start the day."

Ansel stood there, mesmerized by Feldund's ever-moving vines. He moved his eyes from Feldund to Aella and Keill, the two dark grey-blue humanoid beings with sharp ears. They watched him back with curious expressions. Sylvirians and drows. How did we not know these beings existed until now?

Ansel pulled himself from his thoughts, smiled at them, and sat down next to Zeer. "Good morning." He and Zeer sat facing the Aslians. They stared back at him and Zeer as if they were casting judgment for something. A random thought popped into his head of how they knew the native tongue of Reven. A question for another time.

"Aella here-" Feldund motioned to the female drow - "has been asking me about the black markings on your arms. Would you tell us why you have those?" Overlapping vines separated to make a mouth-shaped hole while he talked. The vines slithered around their body like thousands of moving snakes. It was mesmerizing and Ansel lost his concentration as he watched.

He pulled his eyes away from the vines and turned his head to look at Aella."They mark me as a Foundling, which is a group I belonged to back in Reven. They are meant as a mark of pride. We used to steal from the Lords and the king and protect the poor from the Crimson Guards."

Aella's eyebrows raised. "Used to?"

Silence met her question. Ansel wanted to answer but the words felt as heavy as a mountain.

"They were disbanded after they were framed for the queen's murder. King Vlidian and his son hunt them ruthlessly," Zeer explained while he patted Ansel's back. Ansel swallowed back the heavy words.

Aella looked at Ansel with concern in her eyes. "I'm sorry if my question caused you pain."

He smiled at her meekly. "It's okay. You didn't know."

"So you're hated by your own people?" asked Keill, his face expressionless.

"Keill, iluvian delor," Aella said in a reprimanding way. The foreign language sounded as sweet as a song.

"He's right. I am," Ansel said, feeling a weight in his chest.

Keill watched Ansel, regret in his eyes.

Feldund stood up, thousands of overlapping vines moved around as they did. "What I hear from this is, we may have a common enemy. Now you say you've been framed, and I don't know if you both are telling the truth. I will just have to trust you, as you have to trust us. I hope to hear more about this king of yours, and these 'Foundlings' another time. We must get moving, for the day is young and we have much land to cover before we arrive at our destination."

Feldund turned their head toward Zeer. Their voice flowed through the words in a rhythmic cadence. "Go get your things and wake your men. We need to start moving. It won't be long before that prince of yours finds us. We have almost reached your human settlement, New Dawn." The raindrops dripped down their many vines.

Zeer stood up. "You mean for us to enter this town?"

"You humans need a lot of supplies to survive, and we underestimated how much we needed to bring. We will send you, and some other men into New Dawn to get some food and clothing." Zeer nodded.

Keill stood in front of Ansel. "Sorry for saying that earlier. I look forward to getting to know you more."

Ansel smiled back. "It's okay, you didn't know."

The drow smiled, motioned for Aella to come with him, then followed after Feldund.

Ansel followed Zeer as they walked back toward the camp of sleeping men from Building 49. The morning had arrived, and the sun shone through the pink mist, making it almost transparent. Purple flowers in the shape of hooks slowly uncurled as the sun's rays hit them. The rain stopped.

"It's stopped raining." yelled one of the men from Building 49.

Zeer looked up at the sky through the gaps in the mushroom caps. "Not a cloud in sight, will you look at that."

"We will be able to cover a lot of ground today," said Keill, as he walked off toward his giant white elk. I wonder if Keill would ever let me ride his elk. The Aslians' elk never tired and were rarely fed; they mostly grazed on things surrounding them. Ansel wanted to ride one of the creatures. Maybe someday.

The horses from the prison camp were in rough shape by contrast. Two days earlier, one of the men took a horse to scout behind them to see if they were being chased. But after the man had never come back, they hadn't sent more. The problem was, four horses weren't enough to hold nine men. They had to walk and run while switching off as much as possible.

Feldund and Aella followed Keill's suit, mounting their own white elks. Seeing a talking tree ride a white elk was something Ansel was never going to get used to. He looked over to the group of Building 49 men all readying themselves and packing up their camp. Some were drinking water while they had the chance, others were adjusting their Shroomveils to be more comfortable.

Zeer cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention. "Feldund has told me that today we will pass by a human settlement called New Dawn. We'll be stopping outside of it, and a few of us will be going in to get some supplies. So be ready for that. Keep up and keep quiet, the prince and his lackeys could still be behind us. Let's move out."

Many grunts of agreement sounded off throughout the group of men.

Ansel helped the men pack all their bedding onto the horses. After everything was secure, the men left to follow the three Aslians on their elk. He put his bedding onto the back of a horse and watched after them.

Are they truly helping us? He pushed the anxious thoughts to the back of his mind. I have to trust Zeer and see where this leads.

He moved to follow after the men but stopped and scanned behind them one last time. Suddenly, a loud piercing horn cut through the air from behind them. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. It was a couple of leagues away behind them. That sound only meant one thing. The Crimson Guards had found what they were looking for.

"RUN!"