Haidee returned from the south. Evelthon, on watch, didn’t flinch from her approach opposite where she left, but for Rhene and her recovering body the unexpected direction stunned her sense of reality. Thinking she moved without knowing sent her reeling once more. 

“I apologize for the trouble,” she grumbled. Evelthon stood behind her to offer his knees for back support. 

“You are never a trouble,” Haidee comforted. She set a cleaned root in Rhene’s palm. “Chew on this. I was told it should boost your strength.” 

Rhene obeyed despite the bitter taste and tough texture like congealed fat. Thankfully, Haidee going through the purchases at least gave her attention a different focus. They now had two more packs with items for what she and Haidee would need with a third bursting with food, medical supplies, and potentially handy items like rope, a small hammer, and oil. 

“I moved throughout the market buying only a little at each place until I had everything. That way it was less obvious I bought for more than myself and didn’t stand out buying so much at once. I circled about on my way here to make sure I wasn’t followed,” Haidee explained. 

“I would have bought everything from the first places I saw and come right back,” Rhene cringed. 

“I would have circled back to camp, but I also would have bought everything right away,” Evelthon admitted. 

“I’m glad to be able to teach. Are you sure we shouldn’t get two horses though, Evelthon? Rhene can’t move well, and it’ll be faster.” 

“It’ll be faster if we stuck to the roads, but our best option now, as mentioned, is to be seen as little as possible. The horses will then struggle off the roads. Rhene should hopefully recover soon, and I’m fine to carry her if you are able to carry the bags.” 

“These are nothing,” Haidee proudly hoisted the packs without issue that’d topple Rhene over even at her normal health. 

Upon Evelthon’s back once more, the three of them resumed the journey after destroying the drawings in the dirt. Evelthon directed their path as if he’d traveled the woods extensively though he revealed he’d not wandered here before. The passing hours did not weaken his arms. However, their conversation from earlier about her mother’s distress from the ways she and he had shared touch made his fingers sturdily clutching the underside of her thighs scalding in a way they hadn’t earlier. 

Though she’d done nothing exerting, Rhene was exhausted by the time they made camp for the night. Evelthon hunted a weaned fawn for dinner, and Haidee showed Rhene how to make a stew from the meat and purchased vegetables. Rhene realized after the meal that standing without fainting was possible with a steady hand to hold, and she was able to relieve herself without humiliatingly requiring assistance—though Haidee stood nearby in case she needed any. Evelthon, promising his state was hardy, stayed up most of the night to keep watch. Dry tightness in her throat had Rhene coughing at first light. 

“It feels as if the weather has chosen to change with our situation,” she mused, shivering in the early glow that bore no heat. “The days have turned dour, and now it seems like Inachus is suddenly giving his sun to Kallon.” 

“The autumn sun will not rise for several weeks still. We are merely unlucky on top of being unlucky,” Evelthon said. 

“Or, perhaps the weather is changing with someone’s emotions?” Haidee quirked a brow. She snuggled next to Rhene as her fingertips also iced. Evelthon shook his head. 

“You both know control of the seasons belongs to Eryxiones, and you both know that I am not a god.” 

“I thought that an area localized around you might...” 

“I am not a god. I cannot control the weather,” Evelthon sighed. Rhene’s heart skipped in both delight and warning at his abrupt smirk. “However, I can do this.” 

A thrusting push of hot wind scoured over them, nearly tipping them back and wrenching the blankets from their hold. Haidee and Rhene shrieked, snorted, and laughed. Warmed pleasantly, it got them up and going where Rhene rejoiced in her ability to properly stand and walk. Weariness insisted on being a companion in her calves, yet she adamantly settled her own pack on her own back to be the guarded middle of their line with Evelthon in the front and Haidee behind. 

Not an hour out stung the bottom of Rhene’s feet something awful. The tops had grown used to the bounce of small pebbles and scratchy greetings of rough plants. In a manner now unfortunate, the soft soles had otherwise been protected by the mode of transportation that was the horse. Rhene kept her complaints to herself. Evelthon and Haidee had done so much for her, and they continued to dote on her throughout the day. The least Rhene could do was not whine like a spoiled child about a discomfort affecting them all. 

Evelthon kept them in the shade and dry. They weaved up and down the rolls and swerves of the land between the foothills and cliffsides. Firs and pines scented their way with pleasant aroma, and in their brief breaks—about once an hour—Haidee plucked flowers, leaves, and vines to teach Rhene what each could do. How greatly Rhene’s cheeks puffed when Haidee set the leaves of a bush within her hand, had Rhene do her best to discern their purposes based on what’d been said, and then impishly revealed there was no answer at all—the leaves were useless. They gained a bit of purpose when Rhene tossed them in Haidee’s face. 

Inachus, as if proving his retained dominance, shone radiantly once lunch passed. Rhene smiled to herself with Evelthon constantly slipping them into the darker paths only for the sun to search them out. The light did make it easier to find a proper cave for the evening before the true dark of night took command. What they hadn’t been able to eat of the fawn had been left behind, so Evelthon disappeared for a time to return with two pudgy pheasants. Rhene demanded to help with the meal by doing more than mixing ingredients in a pot. Her fingers tightened and her toes scrunched wrenching feathers from the poor creatures though. She had to turn away when Evelthon yanked out their innards and pulled out with bloody fingers their hearts. 

Night passed. Rain came. Rain left. Evelthon abstained from a heating wind for energy conservation, and Rhene cursed that the bottom of her feet hadn’t gotten the message to toughen up and become the greatest of shields from one day of training. Pinpricks yesterday were knives today with Haidee constantly on her heels meaning Rhene slowed them down significantly. Regardless that no complaint left her lips, the first thing Haidee did when they stopped for lunch was to sit Rhene on a fallen log and untie her sandals. 

“Silly thing,” Haidee chided gently. As Rhene expected, her feet were sore and raw with several blisters glistening. Rhene tried for an apology, but Haidee squeezed her knee and shook her head. “No, I should not rebuke you. Honestly, this was inevitable given the soft nature of your feet and how suddenly you’re being forced to put them through hard use. You’ll have to stay off your feet until the blisters heal lest they pop, dirty, and infect.” 

“How am I meant to do that?” Rhene despaired. 

“I can carry you as before,” Evelthon explained simply. 

“You can’t do that all day for days.” 

“I can. As mentioned, I am hardy. You are light and carrying you does not tire me. Besides, the only other option then is to let you hurt yourself further, and that won’t do us any good.” 

“I...” 

Though willing to submit to his logic and insistence, Rhene’s words collapsed under the ragged shudder of her lungs crushing her ribs and preceding an immediate loss of composure. Rhene grabbed what cloth the sleeve of her chiton could spare to bury her miserable sobs and snotty face. In this she missed what looks Evelthon and Haidee shared or what small whispers could be without notice from her crying. Haidee’s kind palm circling on her back retreated Rhene into a tighter ball where she wished she’d disappear into the endless void past the two moons, the stars, and the fragile realm of the cosmos the twins of Daetor and Elcmene valiantly worked to maintain. 

“What is it, Rhene?” Haidee wondered an unknown number of minutes later. Rhene guiltily lifted her head to discover Evelthon had stepped off out of sight. “I know many things are wrong, but what burdens your heart in this moment?” 

“I-I don’t know,” Rhene shoved her palms over her eyes. “I don’t know why I cry. Deep within me is emptiness and calm, yet I...” 

“I’ve known many who have broken into moments like yours. They were the ones who smiled despite the cruelties they faced, the ones to declare there was hope when a blind man could see there was none. An abrupt crash, the revenge of the water behind the dam—the burdens of a heart cannot be ignored forever. You’ve suffered much these past days, and, perhaps because of the pain in your feet, the contained grief finally runs free as the agony overflows.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” 

Slowly, Haidee slipped her hands into Rhene’s and guided them down. “You cry. It is an emotion necessary as any other. The ones I’ve seen dismiss it as not…often don’t see a bright end to their days. I know you worry you cannot do much, but your turn will come to be our light in the dark. Let us be yours now. That is how friends are supposed to be, are they not?” 

“Yes,” Rhene smiled. 

“Oh, good. I hoped, but I didn’t actually know. I often worked alone, and the times there were others around we competed more for the little we were given than desirous to band together.” 

“You are a wonderful friend, Haidee,” Rhene reassured. “It is true I feel I am pitiful, but I’ll have faith in your faith. That way I can indeed be there for you endlessly enough that you can’t recall the times you were alone.” 

“I’ll look forward to it,” Haidee embraced her. 

Rhene continued to cry in her arms. Slower and better controlled were the tears, but they pooled and dripped each time Rhene thought she’d expunged all the moisture in her body. Irritated by the raw burn of her cheeks, she distracted herself by cleaning and bandaging her own feet per Haidee’s instructions. Then they waited. Evelthon remained out of sight. Haidee walked the perimeter and called for him, but he did not reply. 

“Perhaps he chose to hunt again while he waited,” she offered as explanation. 

“I hope he returns soon. I’d rather know he’s safe than have a rabbit to eat.” 

Rhene and Haidee passed a few more minutes with steady conversation. The conversation rambled more with time pressing on, and they fell silent when more than half the hour disappeared without sign of their third companion.