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Takhys was dead. Her body had been extracted from the remains of the tent. She had been crushed under the beams of the roof, dying instantly.

Fyra had been watching her ever since Takhys had been put down next to the other corpses.

Takhys had been talking to her less than half a glassturn before the attack began, and now she was gone. Fyra had seen her run inside the tent, terrified, and now that face would wear that expression forever, frozen in time. She didn’t know her all that well, but nevertheless that woman had been part of her everyday life for weeks.

It all seemed so… unreal. And unfair.

Be thankful your grandparents are alive, she tried to tell herself.

Luckily at the time of the attack they were outside, eating by the fire together with Kydalim and his family.

Unlike so many others, they had kept a cool mind and helped the people around them to not panic. And even at that very moment they were helping at the shelter where all the injured had been brought.

Yes, she truly had to be thankful that they were still alive.

But she did not possess their same strength.

Rather than go back to the shelter, she’d rather stay where she was.

Here she wouldn’t have to hear the rasping wheezes of the burn victims, or the anguished wails of those who had lost an arm or a leg.

Nor would she have to see Kal’s mother again.

Eleisa was not Takhis, Fyra had known her ever since she was little. She was a strong woman, the kind you could always count on. Fyra had never known her own mother, and Eleisa was the closest thing to one she had ever had. Seeing her as she was now had left her deeply unsettled.

She expected to get furious, like when Mak had died, and yet she didn’t even have the strength to get mad. She felt… worn out.

And if that was how she felt after seeing her, she didn’t dare imagine how Kal and his sister must feel.

It was even their birthday.

I need to find them and talk to them.

If there was something, anything, she could do, she was going to do it.

She set off looking for them, starting from their tent.

Once she entered, for a moment she thought it was completely empty. Then, in the shadow, she saw someone lying down on a cot. She recognized his lean profile, his square jaw, the face that still had something of the child he had been, The thick eyebrows and the black hair, short and thick, slightly curled at the ends.

Kal’s eyes were closed, he was asleep. Fyra opted to not disturb him and started to leave. She’d speak with Agatha first.

But then she heard a whimper coming from the sleeping boy. She saw him shake his head and tighten his fists, trembling.

Is he having a nightmare? Fyraapproached the cot.

Kal was covered in sweat, his breathing was unsteady. She hadn’t noticed it from afar, but he had dark circles under his eyes. As was understandable. That had been a long day for everyone.

Kal made another weak whimper. Fyra sat down by the cot and took his hand, hoping that human touch would help him calm down. And his breath actually seemed to start relaxing.

Unconsciously, Kal’s hand squeezed hers, and Fyra was reminded of a moment when they were small and she had held that same hand. “I entrust him to you, now.” Eleisa had said, the first time they had gone playing outside away from their respective parents. “See how much smaller than you he is? Have fun, but take care he doesn’t get hurt.” She had taken that duty very seriously, and for the entire day she had never let go of Kal’s little hand.

That little hand now is bigger than mine, she thought absentmindedly. What did that observation make her feel? She couldn’t say with certainty. For her, Kalos had always been “little Kal”. When she thought of him, the first image that came to her mind was still that of a child, or of a little boy smaller than her who would star repeating “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” whenever he got himself in trouble. But now he had grown up, and she…

Did I grow up as well or did I stay the same?

Perhaps what she felt was fear: the fear of being left behind by someone who had been a constant presence throughout her life. That was why she teased him. To show herself that despite appearances her relationship hadn’t changed and would never change. Se needed certainties like that, especially in a moment like this.

Listen to you. Are you here to help him or to help yourself?

She wasn’t given the time to answer herself.

Kal, still asleep, murmured: «Agatha…»

Fyra repeated: «Agatha?» surprised, without thinking.

That was enough to wake up the boy with a jolt that spread to her as well.

«F-Fyra?» he asked, still dazed. «What are you doing here?»

«I wanted to see how you were doing.» she answered him, after catching her breath. «I saw your mother, in the shelter. How do you feel?»

He hesitated for a moment, then he said: «I’m fine. Thank you.»

«Were you having a nightmare?»

«Yes, but nothing to worry about.» Kal kept his gaze down. He was avoiding locking eyes with her. Something was wrong.

«While you were sleeping, you said “Agatha”. Did something happen to her?»

«No. Nothing happened. You can leave, now.» Kal seemed evasive, as if he wanted to send her away.

«If you want me to leave, you should let go of my hand first. You’re wringing it.»

Kal’s only reaction was loosening his grip. If the circumstances were normal, he would have shown at least a little embarrassment. «There. Now go.»

Fyra did her best to crack a joke, though it came out lukewarm: «Are you sure you don’t need your big sister to hold your hand for a little more?»

«Yes, I am.»

This wasn’t like him at all. The Kal she knew would’ve said “Stop that!” or “Y-Yes, I’m sure!” trying not to stutter.

«Kal, what’s wrong?»

«Nothing, I told you. Go away.»

«Where is Agatha?»

No answer.

«Kal, look at me.»

He kept looking down. And she decided she’d had enough.

«Kal, look at me!»

She grabbed the sides of his face and gently but firmly forced him to lift his gaze. The light coming from outside shone on two teary eyes.

«Kal… what happened to Agatha?»

Kal told her.

And even before he was finished, she already knew she’d go with him.

And she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

---

Captain Astor and Ergon had gone to seek an audience with Zamoshan. Astor had protested the idea of bringing Ergon with him, but Helena had exercised her authority.

Now she was alone in the tent. Outside the door there was a single watchwoman, another decision Artor had opposed: Helena understood his worries regarding her safety, but it was a risk she was willing to take.

If what Bek-cherek had told her was true, then Zamoshan cared only for her; and the moment he heard that she was gone, the refugees from Elis would no longer be of any value to him. The consequences would be unpredictable.

If, however, she managed to instill doubt in him, if Zamoshan were left uncertain whether she had been taken away or not, then she might be able to outsmart him and not directly endanger her fellow citizens.

The lord would eventually figure out the truth, it was inevitable, however Helena hoped she would gain enough time to solve the real issue: how to get out of this snare we are in.

In order to flee again, she needed to satisfy three conditions: she had to make her fellow citizens realize that they could not trust the lord, and restore unanimous loyalty to her; she had to find a way to leave the city that did not raise alarm and that did not immediately put the guards of Istak on their trail (this would be the hard part); and finally, she had to decide on a new destination.

The offer Bek-cherek and his lord through him had made was an option, but Helena was not yet fully convinced.

As she pondered such matters, the door to the tent was opened.

«My Exarch.» said the watchwoman outside. «There’s a man who wishes to see you, or at least I think he does. I don’t understand what he’s saying. Do I let him in?»

Helena rose from her cushion and cautiously approached the door. Behind the watchwoman, she saw a withered figure, hunched over and leaning on a stick.

«Yes, do so.» she said to her.

The woman stepped aside, letting that familiar little old man enter the tent.

«Are you not afraid showing yourself in my camp, Kuts?» she asked, talking to him in his tongue, once the door was closed. «There could be spies around us, and if they find out that you have come here…»

«There is nothing to be afraid of.» he replied, smiling in that clever way of his. «For the dvar, I don’t exist. None of us exists. They look at us, they see the gray,» he used both hands to show her his robe, caked with colorless mud «and immediately we are just “selyann” to them. We all look alike in their eyes. They wouldn’t be able to tell me apart from my granddaughter.» he finished with a chuckle.

«Why are you here?» Helena was still wary, after their last encounter. That man was too crafty for her tastes.

However Kuts suddenly turned serious and solemn. «I’m here to thank you. I’ve heard of what happened, and if you hadn’t sent your warriors to help us, perhaps you could have protected yourselves better.»

Helena needed a moment to remember that, yes, captain Astor had told her that, shortly before the attack, he had sent a few watchers to help the selyann. She opted to not tell Kuts the order had not come from her.

«You sacrificed yourselves for us selyann.» he continued, and bowed down. «You, strangers who like us have been shut out of the walls, have offered your own strength to help us. You have saved an immense number of our lives at the risk of your own safety. You have shown without a doubt that in difficulty, in the greatest of difficulties, we can count on you. You are truly… our friends.»

His emotion was genuine. Helena did not know what to say.

But there was no need to say anything, for Kuts rose back up and said: «Today you have performed an act nobler than any dvar. You have our sincere and full gratitude. Whatever is in our power to do for you, ask and we will.»

Helena covered her mouth with one hand. The sad simplicity of this people was disarming. A single normal gesture like answering a call for help, something that in the Principate was considered the least a proper citizen could do, had been enough for her to be the object of such gratefulness. She wondered how much they must have suffered and still be suffering under the yoke of the dvar; and if before the Liberation that was the norm for all humans.

«You honor us, Kuts.» she managed to say. «I will keep your words in mind. Now go.»

The old man bowed once more and then exited the tent, right when the watchwoman was about to peek inside. She asked: «My Exarch, there’s another visitor.»

In the tent came Artor Deutarid.

«I find you well, “Agatha”.» he said.

«I wish I could say the same of you.» she answered, looking at him. He was not the person with more red on him she had seen that day, but the dried blood on his clothes clashed with his calm behavior.

«Forgive me for not making myself perfectly presentable before coming here, my Exarch, but I had an urgent need to speak with you.»

He had Helena’s curiosity. It was the first time that that young main said he wanted to speak with her.

«I am listening.»

Artor looked around, slowly. «Some of my fellow citizens have seen the assailants run away taking with them a girl in clothes similar to yours.» He then looked at her. «And I’ve heard you’re trying to use this fact to your advantage. I compliment your cleverness.»

Helena realized something in him had changed. In his eyes now there was a sinister, almost threatening glint. But she managed to show no fear.

«Your ability to quickly get to the point is a quality I admire, Artor Deutarid. Please, do not deprive me of it.»

He smiled. And Helena immediately wished he did not. It was a fake smile, devoid of any mirth. It was a mere contraction of muscles, with no real emotion behind it.

«My Exarch, if you want everyone to think that Helena Dorina is gone, then find it hardly appropriate for you to keep occupying this tent. Come with me. I’ll show you a better place to hide.» Artor offered her a hand. Dark red stains could still be seen in its creases, but it seemed to have been washed.

Though not without apprehension, Helena took that hand. Part of her called her foolish for that, but she felt as if she had no other choice.

Artor led her out of her tent. The So’el corpse had been moved, someone would take care of burying it before sunset.

The watchwoman immediately stopped the young man, putting his hand on her mikra. «Where are you taking the Exarch, Citizen?»

He answered: «The shelter. If somebody looks for her, send them there.»

Helena gestured to the watchwoman that there was nothing to worry about, then she continued following him.

As they passed in front of one of the tents, Artor said: «Here, this is the tent Agatha occupied, together with her mother and brother. Kal still occupies it, in fact I think he’s inside even now, sleeping.»

«Why are you telling me this?»

Artor did not answer.

The two walked on until they reached the shelter: one of the tents had been turned into a makeshift hospital, gathering there all those who had been injured in the attack. Helena still had not visited it, but even if she had been the one to order it set up as fast as possible, the state of the place troubled her. There was a yawning gap in the tent cover, and the wooden net underneath was being haphazardly repaired by a couple of watchers. Nearby, more watchers were trying to recover as much material as they could from another tent that appeared to have collapsed in on itself. Captain Astor had reported her the accounts, but seeing it in person left a vastly different impression.

«This way.» Artor pressured her, as he opened the door to the shelter.

Helena was not ready to what she saw inside.

To her left, a woman was whimpering as a volunteer poured water on her burnt arm to wash it. Behind her, a man was silently looking at the ceiling with dullened eyes; one of his legs was a stump wrapped in bloodied bandages.

To her right, another man was lying on his cot, his eyes closed. He had red hair and an unruly beard. As if he had felt her presence, he suddenly opened his eyes and looked at her. «Ohh,» he exclaimed, smiling, «look what beauty they sent to take care of me! Come, pretty, the bullet hit me right here…»

«Polemos, don’t bother them.» said an older man with one arm on a sling, standing behind the one he called “Polemos”.

«Come on, I was just joking.» the latter responded, but the old man ignored him, talking instead to Artor. «Is this her?» he asked.

«Yes.»

The elder nodded and pointed at the far side of the tent with his uninjured arm, in the gesture of someone making way.

Artor went on, walking with sure step through the confusion. Those who could walk and use at least one arm took care of those who could not do either or both, passing from bed to bed. The tent was far over its maximum capacity, and yet once they reached the farthest from the entrance they found a little quiet area, where the din did not disappear but was at least fainter.

On a small cot sat a woman who looked familiar to Helena. Long black hair emerged from the bandages around her head. Her shoulders were wrapped in a shawl, the green color of which had not been completely eclipsed by dust and mud. Her eyes were green as well, a lighter shade.

«Eleisa.» Artor said, taking the woman’s hands into his. «I’ve brought her to you.»

He gestured Helena to come closer.

«Oh, Artor.» said the woman. «Did you really? Is she here right now?» She turned her head left and right, but not once her eyes focused on Helena. She realized, then, why that woman was in this place despite looking almost uninjured. And she also suddenly understood why she had looked familiar to her.

Eleisa. Agatha Eleisina.

Before Helena was aware of it, Artor had gently guided the woman’s hands toward her own.

«What are you…?» she tried to say.

However, Eleisa cried an “Ohhh” full of emotion and grasped her hands tightly. «Agatha… Agatha, you’re alright. I was so worried…» She pulled her toward herself and embraced her. Helena instinctively tried to shake free, until she realized that the woman was crying.

«When I asked Kal where you were, he wouldn’t answer. I was afraid something had happened to you.» she said, between hiccups.

«Now, now, let her go for the moment. You’re scaring her like this.» Artor pulled them apart, putting a hand on one shoulder each. «Do you understand now that there was nothing to worry about? Agatha is fine.»

Helena could only look at him in disbelief. It was as if that young man had transformed into another person entirely: his voice had a warm, reassuring tone; the sinister glint in his eyes had vanished; even his smile was sincere. Was he acting? But for the benefit of who, since that woman could not see?

«She just caught a bit of cold, so her voice is a little hoarse. For a while, it’s better for her to not talk much.» As he said so, he looked at Helena. «And once in a while she will be busy with our lessons to the Exarch; she talked to you about them, didn’t she? Still, the rest of the time she’ll stay here with you. Happy?»

«Artor, of course I’m happy.» Eleisa said, wiping her tears. «Thank you. You really are… a good young man. Even at a time like this you thought of me. I… I heard about Semna. I’m sorry, really.»

For an instant, Artor’s eyes glazed over and the cold expression Helena was by now used to reappeared. But it was just an instant. «Don’t worry.» he said.

«I know she could be…» Eleisa hesitated, before answering: «difficult. But I often talked to her. And I assure you, deep down, she did love you.»

«I have no doubts about that.» Though Eleisa seemed to not notice the cold tone of that last sentence, Helena did. «Now we’ll let you rest, alright? Agatha will come back later.»

He bid goodbye to Eleisa and then headed for the exit. Helena gave one last look at the blind woman, then she followed him.

«Is this the place you propose I hide in, Artor Deutarid?» she asked, once they were out of the shelter.

«No one here recognized you as Helena Dorina, did they?» he said. Any trace of warmth or kindness was gone. «For everyone, you’d just be Agatha Eleisina, keeping her mother company. Of course, there are a few disadvantages, for example you’d no longer be able to sleep in the comfy tent you’re used to.»

«This deception would not last. Sooner or later that woman would realize I am not her daughter.»

«You’ll just need to learn some acting. You already have the talent.»

«You impudent…!»

«There, first lesson: Agatha would never use a word like “impudent”, certainly not with that tone.»

Helena took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. «It still cannot work. What would we do if she regains her sight?»

Artor looked at her as if she had just said something silly. «Oh, she will regain her sight sooner or later. That’s not an if, that’s a when. And what you will do, will be hope that when that happens Kal is already back with the real Agatha.»

Helena tightened her fists. «You speak as if I had no other choice than to dance to your music. But I can always refuse.»

He sighed, his gaze set far away in the distance. «If you did I’d have misjudged you. You’re not such a slave to your own pride to renounce a clear benefit to you for mere pettiness. You’re in a precarious position even if you say no.»

He took a deep breath. «Still, fine: let us pretend you refuse this proposal of mine. Do you really think there will not be consequences to such a decision?»

«What consequences?» she asked, almost out of patience.

Then she understood.

«No… you would not dare.»

«“Would not dare” what, my Exarch?» Artor pronounced her title in a low voice, but in a mocking tone.

«If you reveal I am still here, you will put all the citizens in danger. Do you not understand I am doing this for you?»

«For us?» Artor lowered his gaze. «Really for all of us?»

«Yes, all of you.»

«For Agatha too?»

Helena’s words died in her throat.

Artor looked her in the eyes. And in them she saw rage: a destructive fury barely kept under control, that nevertheless showed itself only there, inside those two windows on his soul, while the rest of his face, his body and his voice expressed tranquil indifference. And she realized he really would dare.

«You see, my Exarch. You think my actions would put everyone in danger. I know they would put you in danger. You, who are abandoning an innocent girl to suffer and die away from her family. A girl who ended up in this situation due to your decision.»

«I…» Helena tried to react. «I could not predict what was going to happen. You cannot put the blame on me!»

«I’m not.» Artor’s gaze did not waver. «You’re not responsible for what happened. But it would be nice if you were at least a little sorry.»

«I-I am! I said so to Kalos Aregonid and if you want I will say so to you as well: I am so-»

«Words are not enough.» Artor interrupted her. «Show that you’re sorry with your actions, if you want to be our Princess.»

Helena had no way to fight back anymore.

«Fine.» she said, with an exasperated sigh. «You are right. I never had any intention of refusing. I will show that I am sorry with my actions, and I will… act, the part of Agatha Eleisina. Also, Kalos Aregonid is free to leave.»

In an instant, the intense and terrifying emotion in Artor’s eyes vanished like snow under the sun. «I knew I could count on your wisdom, “Agatha”. We have a deal, then. I entrust Eleisa to you. Take good care of her, she has suffered much.»

He started to leave.

«Artor!» she called him back.

He turned.

«I think I hate you.»

He gave her his first sincere smile since she had met him.

«I think so too.»