Avishraa Reloaded

How were they doing it?

Despite every turn and twist her companions made, every attempt by Tikke and Unitti to take their cart along paths that few used regularly, all around them were futures in which they were surrounded by takmar with blades and exalted expressions… and a strange faded figure whose touch could turn things to black mist.

Yet the pattern of those futures was not one of people led by an oracle. It was reactive. They could tell where the party was, even at a distance of many kilometers, but not where it would be. She knew of no magic, none at all, that fit such a description. And while it was slightly comforting to think that, given enough space and enough speed, such pursuers might be outmaneuvered, the party had neither. The terrain around them had become very hilly, shading into the mountains ahead in the distance, and their foes stood in their path.

The surest way to avoid them was to turn around and go back.

Evrith had searched through possibilities and found no good choices. But she had discovered what their pursuers were tracking, and, if nothing else, it meant that there was the possibility to limit the casualties… if she could convince the others.

They had stopped to camp, as they had regularly for the past two sixes of rests. The sun was near the zenith of its slow journey across the sky, so there was no need of light, but Unitti had built a small fire for cooking. Evrith had been staring into it silently for some time.

At last, as Tikke fussed over some thinly sliced meat he was cooking in a pan over the flames, Evrith spoke, suddenly and quietly: “I think perhaps I should consider going on alone.”

Evrith could practically witness the protest ripple through An-uxhwi, his body language not at all subtle. It was almost as though she'd said something outrageous. But it wouldn't have been An-uxhwi if he hadn't hesitated before speaking, and did so with careful consideration: “What happens if you continue on your own?” His tone wasn't hiding his suspicion.

Evrith did not look at him; her gaze remained on the fire, or at least in its direction. Her expression tensed, in the manner of one preparing for a struggle.

“It would be the difference,” she replied, trying to put some steel in her voice, “between them doing unpleasant things to all of us and doing them to one of us. If I go separately, they'll follow me, not any of you.”

Tikke and Unitti glanced at each other. Though their aid - and their cart - had been quite useful, Evrith had never been quite clear on their reasons for accompanying the other three this far, even after being informed of their distant pursuers. She was increasingly of the opinion that they wanted something, but whatever it was, they hadn't dared to ask for it yet.

They looked uncertain - they were survivors, and mindless bravery was not a survival trait - and muttered to each other in their own language, but to her despair it sounded like they were trying to work themselves up to something. While they talked, she finally turned toward An-uxhwi with an air of resignation.

An-uxhwi either paid no attention to the other xtauh or, at the very least, gave their mutual glances no further thought. Evrith's elaborations had an air of finality to them he didn't like - none of the options were 'and we evade them' or 'and we defeat them'.

On the other hand, 'unpleasant things' did not sound like it implied death. Enslavement, as in the mines? He'd certainly rather fight to the death before he let either himself or Evrith land in that state again.

Still, it could be a euphemism. “What are your chances in surviving the encounter on your own?” An-uxhwi asked, still maintaining a sceptical air.

“Should they catch up with me…” She paused.

It would be much easier to lie. Lying would probably solve a large number of problems. It would've solved even more if she'd just started off by lying. But she'd done that, once - lied about the future to make someone choose other than they would have - and both he and she had paid for it. Were still paying for it. It made her ill to think of doing that again.

“They want something from me,” Evrith continued, reluctantly. “I don't know what. They will try to force me to give it to them. But once they have it - or realize that they won't get it - they do not want me alive. But,” she pushed on, watching his expression carefully, “I might be able to fight my way out.”

That wasn't a lie. Just very, very unlikely.

Unsurprisingly, An-uxhwi was not willing to let her off easily. “And if we stay with you? Does that increase your chances?” he asked, staring at her intently.

She tried very hard to meet his gaze, though it made her eyes water a bit. “A bit. Not appreciably.”

Shyriath, who up until this point had been watching almost as intently as An-uxhwi, chose this moment to speak. “These people are ahead of us? Between us and the pass?” At her slight nod, he continued, “It would be a very long detour, but there are other paths across the mountains, so if we turned-”

“It would take too long-” Evrith began, then stopped, a moment of indecision crossing her face. It would be too long, but explaining why that was important was not something she wanted to get into. And, after all, it was still a better chance of survival - for all of them - than going forward. Then again-

In a more subdued voice, she continued, “I don't think it would work, not in the long run. They would be on our heels the whole way through difficult terrain.”

An-uxhwi considered what Evrith was saying, coming to parse it as that she would not be able to outrun her pursuers indefinitely. It really was no question at all for him - he would stay with her, even if it only budged her chances by a measly percent or two. He still owed it to her.

“Is there anything at all we can do in preparation to bolster our chances?” he asked, stubbornly. 'Our' chances was, of course, telling - he wasn't even pretending to entertain the idea of letting her off on her own. Maybe she could, with sufficient insistence, force him to leave by way of commanding it, but it surely wouldn't be easy.

It hadn't seemed likely that he would agree. She hadn't expected him to. Evrith told herself that perhaps it was a desire to see the world saved, and she hoped it was, because knowing that he was doing it for her sake would be more than she could bear. She blinked the wetness out of her eyes, and gave Shyriath a challenging glare.

The green shrugged in a resigned fashion. “No point avoiding death if the end of the world is coming, is there?”

She glanced at the other xtauh, but Tikke was already speaking up, with what sounded - and, at least to An-uxhwi, somewhat looked like - false bravado. “We go along a bit longer,” he said, sticking out his chest a bit. “We not good fighters, but we tricky. Maybe help.”

Evrith nodded gloomily. She didn't trust herself to respond, because the words lined up in her brain said: I'm going to get you all killed.

An-uxhwi glanced into the distance, as though it might yield some further insight to their strange, nameless enemies that had Evrith so rattled. “Could we get some assistance? The other Soakers– takmar. They do not like us, but perhaps if we time it right, and they like these other people even less, we could have temporary allies?” Or meat shields in a horrific magical battle, at least - not that An-uxhwi was all that much more useful.

“It would be difficult…” Evrith murmured. Her eyes focused on the future again. “It would require them to believe us about the ones who are pursuing us. And to be able to recognize them if they come, because most of them are not well-known enough. And there are enough enemies to make trouble for the kinds of small settlements to be found around here. They would have to like us much better than they like the others…”

She hesitated, then looked at Tikke and Unitti. “There are xtauh living in these parts too, I think. How well do you know them?”

Tikke, once again, looked somewhat offended at the term 'xtauh'. “There some few of the People here,” he replied, emphasizing the word. “Was many more once, so say storytellers. But giants drove many People away. Those left not like giants, even tiny magic-giants.

“We know some. Some very well. We, er…” Tikke paused, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. “We have hope to stop and see one band, and have you talk with them about a thing. Maybe we convince them to help against enemies, but they not so close. Maybe two vigils, up there.” He pointed southeast, toward a precipitous-looking spur jutting out from the hills, looming over the landscape.

It wasn't far in a straight line, but getting up it… yes, it wasn't hard to imagine it taking two vigils. At least.

“I don't think there's anyone blocking the way yet, but if they catch us while we're making our way up, we're going to have a bad time,” Evrith mused. “Perhaps if we leave the cart and the supplies and fly-” she stopped, and glanced at An-uxhwi's wing, which still had a truly ugly bruise on it. ”Can you fly?“

Could he fly? An-uxhwi craned his neck to look at his wing, as though the visual assessment were worth more than the obvious proprioceptive and nociceptive cues. He could force himself to fly. It would be painful. The wing wasn't so damaged that it was at risk of ripping entirely in the winds, but it would certainly get increasingly strained and sore.

But if they started flying and it turned out to be too much, they would just lose time, likely more than just the spurt of flying as they tried to nurse him back to health, given the associated landing wasn't likely to be a good one.

“I should manage over a short distance, but I don't trust myself to manage the way up,” he said, some regret in his voice. “But that doesn't need to stop us - I could go to a place in one of the books and you could carry it with you.”

Evrith blinked. For all that acquiring the books had been her idea, they remained a bit of a blind spot; she could not see into the future through them, though the same could not be said of the past. Tikke had explored the one with the grasslands - he and Shyriath had endeavored to lighten the cart's load by moving supplies into it - and Shyriath had looked into one of the others, but the rest of them had been too busy keeping the cart moving to join in.

It was certainly a less dangerous idea than making An-uxhwi fly up there. And if she and An-uxhwi remained with the cart while the others went to get help, it would only make them more vulnerable in the meantime.

“I suppose you're right,” she murmured.

“We will pick up cart again later?” Tikke asked, though 'asked' might not have been the right word; traveling with An-uxhwi had slowly accustomed Evrith to certain xtauh expressions, but the one Tikke was using was one she wasn't familiar with. The tone of voice, however, included a certain pugnaciousness that suggested that replying 'no' was going to cause problems.

“If we can. But most of the supplies are in the book anyway, aren't they?” she ventured. Tikke replied, stubbornly, “Is our cart.”