They didn't get very far before night made them choose.
After leaving the goblin camp, the mountain path turned sharply and got narrower as it went up, making a series of switchbacks in stone and scree. Althene looked at the light, the distance, and the way Ash walked—barefoot, unsteady, and favoring nothing and everything at once—and decided to be careful.
"We're done here," she said.
It wasn't a question.
She chose a shallow shelf of rock that was just off the path, high enough to keep water from running off and wide enough for a fire without the risk of it falling down. First, they tied the horse up and checked the reins twice. She didn't start setting up camp until then.
Ash was where she left him.
He didn't go off course. Did not sit down. Did not get close to the horse, the fire kit, or the edge of the drop. He stood still with his arms at his sides and watched her move with the quiet focus of someone who was afraid they would miss instructions that had not yet been given.
Althene noticed.
"Sit," she said, pointing to a flat stone next to the fire ring.
He thought about it for a split second before doing what he was told. He carefully lowered himself, as if he thought the ground would betray him.
She hit the flint.
The fire didn't want to catch.
That was the first thing that didn't feel quite right.
Nonetheless she brushed it off.
The sparks caught, but the fire stayed low and tight, refusing to spread. Althene added some kindling. The fire didn't want to, but it did, and the light stayed close to the ground instead of rising. Instead of going up, the smoke drifted to the side.
Ash looked at the fire.
Not with interest.
With thanks.
Althene slowly straightened up.
"Are you cold?" she asked.
He thought about the question. "I don't... think so."
It wasn't the answer she was hoping for.
She took off her cloak and put it next to him anyway. At first, he didn't touch it. He only pulled it around his shoulders after she turned away to unpack the food. His movements were awkward, like someone who wasn't used to fabric that wasn't meant to hold them back.
They ate in silence.
Without saying anything, Ash took the food. Chewed slowly. In an orderly way. Like the act itself needed focus. He finished everything she gave him, then put his hands in his lap and waited.
Althene broke the silence and said, "For now, we travel at first light." By noon, we'll be on the outer road. From there—
She came to a stop.
Ash hadn't looked up.
His eyes were fixed on something beyond the firelight, unfocused but focused, as if he were listening to something far away.
"Hey," she said.
He blinked. "Sorry."
"What were you listening to?"
He frowned, really confused. "I don't know."
The answer was true. That made her worry.
Althene moved closer to the fire and put her claymore across her knees. She hadn't gone to bed yet. Not on the first night, she wouldn't.
Minutes went by.
Then more.
The mountain was still. There is no wind. No birds at night. No bugs. The stillness was thick and strange, it made her recall the pause before someone let out a long held in breath.
Althene could feel it then—the Light in her, restless. Wanting to secape her body but not knowing where to go.
She looked at Ash.
The firelight didn't touch him like it should have. Shadows got closer, making his edges softer. Not hiding him, but making him a little blurry, a little too indiscernible.
She said "Ash" again, this time more firmly. "Lie down. Try to get some sleep."
He looked at her and then at the ground next to the fire. He asked quietly, "If I sleep, will it happen again?"
She tightened her grip on the sword.
She asked, "What?"
"The... coming back."
The words were clear. Without any decorations. Like he was asking about the weather.
Althene thought carefully about her answer. At last, she said, "I don't know." She lamented, "But everyone needs to sleep." She knew he must be referring to what the other captives had told her when he used the words 'coming back.' Although she wasn't sure what it had to do with sleeping. She could only see a young boy afraid now.
He took in her response. He felt greatful for it. He then lay down slowly, but he didn't shut his eyes.
Hours ticked by.
The fire was low but steady now, as if it had finally come to terms with its place. Althene kept an eye on things, her senses on high alert, waiting for something to test her will.
Nothing happened.
But—
She realized that Ash hadn't moved at all when it was almost the middle of the night. Not a single time. No moving. Not a twitch of dreams. No change in the way you breathe.
He was awake.
Still.
Waiting.
For the dawn.
Althene looked out over the darkened slopes and felt a chill that she couldn't blame on the weather.
There were no more chains.
But whatever had taught him so well was still with him.
And the night, thank God or not, did not last forever.