As she listened to him speak, Johanna began to draw a conclusion, or at least form an idea. "Asher! My brother Thalien is a jeweler in Ciola! I'm sure he would have word, or at least knowledge about any valuable gems, after all, he specialized in unique and uncommon gems and precious stones. I am certain that Thalien would know of this gem. Shall we journey to Ciola? Unlike myself, Thalien has chosen stay, as well as Chezaré. They would be at my home in the Artisan Square. If I asked him Thalien would certainly help us."

Hopefully, Asher would accept the idea, if not, Johanna wasn't sure where they should go then, and in particular, she wasn't sure how he would feel traveling to the epicenter of the civil war. After all, any citizens of noble rank spotted traveling in Sevitel were at risk of robbery or murder by the rebels.

Asher nodded slowly, his face lightening considerably as she spoke. "Yes," he muttered, "yes, that might actually work!" He could have cheered as a rush of inspiration flowed through him. "You're proving yourself already, miss Valor...Valiver...Johanna." There would be time for him to learn her actual name later. Why couldn't nobles have something simple, like Thyne? Thyne was a good, strong, easy to remember surname.

But instead, the rich and wealthy decided to ingrain titles and family names and hypens into their ancestry. It was such lunacy, though he couldn't blame Johanna for her family's decisions. He straightened from his bent position, a new fire kindled in his eyes. "Of course, it means we'll be diving headfirst into a civil war, but I've dealt with worse. We'll probably want to leave as soon as we're able, before the refugees start to move again."

He glanced at her then. "I assume you know the way to go?" He sure didn't, and he didn't want to lead them in the wrong direction so early on the trip. Or ever, he hoped.

At first Johanna had wanted to embrace him from pure joy, how amazing this was!, but she contained herself soon after Asher asked her if she knew the way. Journeying back to Ciola, the thought made her feel weak in the knees. She escaped to save her life, and now she's diving back into the lion's pit only to be devoured alive. Unless, Johanna could pull the cloth over their faces, the rebels would certainly make an attempt on her life.

"Aye, I know the way. However there is just one problem...we can't enter the city directly like this. In fact, I feel that it would not be safe for us to enter the city through the main gate. That is where the rebels live, in the Lower District...and where I live as well. They know who I am by my face alone. No, I would have to create a disguise.." Now, Johanna was just thinking aloud, she crossed her arms about her chest, and cupped her chin with one hand. She went silent for a minute or two before remembering who she had spoken to, and where she was, "I'll figure that out later. As of right now, are there any supplies that you would like to acquire before setting off?" Johanna asked him. "If so, we should do it now, if not...then let's get on our way."

Asher smiled genuinely, for the first time in what seemed like weeks. "I like your thinking, miss Johanna. Of course, I'm sure there will be plenty of danger and more than a little bit of discomfort, but if you're willing to put up with that," he broke off and looked her up and down, "and I do believe you are...well, then I see no reason to delay."

He stooped down, picked up his bags, and closed the fireplace doors. "Shall we?"

---Skip Ahead---

Day four. From what Johanna had told him, they still had a long way to go. Asher sighed, and held his hands up to the fire. It was still cold at night, and now they ran the added risk of being attacked by wolves, bears, or whatever animal decided they were easy prey out this far in the wilderness.

Still, they weren't too badly off. Asher glanced to his left, and the twinkle of another campfire brought a slight reassurance to his mind. They were not alone: dozens of refugees off the main road had all set up camp here together. He looked back at Johanna. The light from the blaze caught her face in a warm caress, and not for the first time Asher caught himself admiring her features. He shrugged, laughing it off as a loner's curse.

He shifted slightly closer to his companion. "Tell me something about your brothers. Ciola. Anything. Let's pass the time for a while before sleep."

For four days, Johanna and Asher traversed towards Ciola. She guided them from Serwyn's ornate saddle, recollecting the memories from the nights previously passed. Now, she sat next to Asher as they had only made camp hours before the sun set. During her pursuit to escape from Sevitel, Johanna had pushed herself to ride through the night. The more distance she covered, the better. Repeating the same exhaustive ride back to Ciola would certainly kill Serwyn, or he would go lame.

The heat from the fire warmed her hands, and as she rubbed them together with tenderness, Asher asked her to speak of her brothers. Smiling fondly, Johanna nodded more to herself than to Asher in agreement. Not only were Thalien and Chezaré her brothers, they were also her friends. "Thalien is tall and dark-haired. He is a man of thoughts and words, which gives him a brooding atmosphere. I think he personally finds the company of stones and gems more entertaining than that with people. And Chezaré is just as tall, but his hair is the colour of sun-lit wheat. He is a ladies man by nature, which has cost him a broken nose on occasions. Chezaré is just as smart as Thalien, although he acts more like a rogue than a cartographer. Neither of my brothers have families, or at least not yet." She looked to Asher, her hazel eyes reflecting in the light of the fire, "I pray tell that I haven't dulled your sense with my boring words." And here again, she smiled.

A few, leaking tears flickered on Asher's cheeks. Johanna seemed so close to her brothers. Like a real family. He didn't even have parents. Emerson had been the closest thing, and even then, Asher had felt there were times when the two of them weren't connected. He'd never felt that familial bond. When she finished, he remained motionless, staring into the fire for a while.

"Oh, my apologies." Asher looked up, blinking away the tears. "Your story was quite interesting, I promise. It seems you and your brothers are close." He turned away for a moment, trying to clear his eyes. A true man is not afraid to cry, Asher, but he knows the time and place. Emerson may not have been a total father, but he had been an excellent mentor. The time to cry was not now. He returned his gaze to the fire, and opened his mouth to speak.

Then a scream ripped through the night air. Asher's head snapped to the right, where the noise had originated, and he leapt to his feet. A swirl of torches, high in the air, milled about near one of the other fires. "Bandits," he growled. "The bastards." He had heard stories about black-hearted people preying on the refugees, stripping them of even the smallest, trivial artifacts. They were worse than animals.

He started off, halted, and turned to Johanna. "I can't tell you what to do, but if you wish to fight, there's a spare sword in my pack. Be careful." Off he went, his sword sliding from its scabbard. The sword was medium in length, a powerful metal-hybrid weapon he had procured during one of his several trips to Rohnad. The swords there were some of the finest he had encountered.

Some of the raiders were on horseback, while some were on foot. Attacking the mounted would be suicide with sword like his, no matter how sharp and strong. Instead, he opted for a safer route. He stooped low, and grabbed a torch from the ground, lighting it in one of the fires. Then he leapt into the fray, swinging sword and fire alike, blinding the attackers and cutting them apart.

He tried to maim rather than kill, mainly because most of the bandits were simply the most desperate of the refugees, and because Emerson had once said, Only a coward kills the enemy. A coward who sees only the enemy, and not the man. Though they would kill you, you may gain powerful friends with a bit of mercy. And the man had been right--some of Asher's most steadfast allies had been enemies he had defeated in combat, through luck, skill, or concentration; he wasn't the best swordfighter, but he could handle himself in a fight.

He was more worried about Johanna. If she was injured, captured, or killed, he'd lose his best and only chance of finding what he sought. And, though he wasn't sure to admit it yet, he'd lose a friend.

Her first reaction to Asher's few, but sensitive tears stunned her. A man that could cry in front of a woman unashamed? This was unheard of! Yet, she kept her astonishment to herself, it was inappropriate of her to call attention to his tears. Instead she reached out with a comforting hand and patted him thrice upon his back before withdrawing away from him. "Oh come now, do not be such a light-hearted sissy, my words were not that heartfelt as you would have to them to be." Here she laughed, but as soon as she did, a scream tore through the night. She startled, her heart almost leaping into her mouth from fright. Asher rose to his feet and spotted what he claimed to be bandits. She looked to him for guidance, Johanna had not found her self in such dire situations. Almost immediately, Asher invited Johanna to join the fray with him by informing her of the location of a spare sword. After he departed, Johanna rushed to retrieve the sword from his pack. It didn't take her long to discover it. She would have liked to take the time to examine it closer, but she couldn't.

Her heart pounded violently within her chest, Johanna worried that it might burst from her chest from the way it banged painfully away inside. She fervently kicked the cinders of the fire about, extinguishing the flames as she did so. If the bandits saw the light of their fire, the chance of the discovery of their camp increased tenfold. When that task was completed, Johanna took off into the darkness, in search of Asher. Finding him was easier than she had anticipated. She soon discovered her new companion, sword and torch in hand, fighting like a wild man.

Johanna had just broken into the clearing when she spotted a bandit on foot wielding an iron axe approaching Asher with intent to kill. She sprinted into action, not out of courage, but out of fear for the life of Asher. Johanna raised her sword high in the air and grasped the bandit with her other hand. Her fingers curled tightly around his coarse leather vest as she pulled back the bandit. Johanna drove the hilt of the sword into the skull of their foe, knocking him unconscious.

Asher looked up at the woman, who had brilliantly neutralized the man in front of them. A grin broke on his face. "Nice hit!" He called, over the din, but there was work to be done. He wheeled around, bounding toward another marauder. With a spiral-web of steel and a sudden [i]snick[/s] the man shrieked and dropped his knife, clutching a wound on his side. It would heal.

"Stay near me!" He shouted to Johanna, but he didn't know if she had heard. He decided to assume she had, and moved on to the next fire, where a man and woman struggled with a pair of particularly scraggy raiders.

None of the attackers seemed to be interested in hurting others, as desperate people were more interested in survival than murder. But the refugees also wanted to keep their belongings, and so the violence had begun escalating out of control. There were many, many bandits; more than Asher could count in the flickering fires.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his unlikely partner, at least nearby. But behind her was another worry. To his slight surprise, a woman crept up on the other, with a wicked looking sickle winking in the flame light. An irrational flood of fear speared through him, and before he could even think, he ripped up his hand and hurled the weapon at the other woman.

The blade tumbled, end over end, through the air, streaking past Johanna, and smashing the woman in the face with the hilt. The blade whipped into her mid-rift, and Asher's blood went cold. The desperate, almost-feral woman had only been trying to survive, and he had very likely just killed her.

"You bastard!" A man's voice burst from behind him, and then Asher's feet were swept out from under him by a medium sized, but incredibly dangerous looking man. Asher had no weapons, and the lean muscle beneath his aggressor's skin were reason enough for fear, even if the short blade in his right hand wasn't. "You'll pay dearly for that, you monster."

The blade streaked downward, and a sudden pain exploded from Asher's stomach. The man was torturing him! The madman continued to cut a dozen shallow streaks in Asher's body, face, and arms. Asher could do nothing but take the pain, and pray for a miracle.

The man she had knocked unconscious tumbled noiselessly to the ground, dropping like a dead weight. At first, Johanna was tempted to investigate the man for the severity of his wounds, but she resisted as Asher called to her. She made her way over to Asher as quickly as she could, stumbling over fallen crates, and other precious items that the refugees deemed valuable to take with them, as she went. Johanna had unpinned the folds of her dress for the evening before the raiders sprang upon them. She had been caught off guard, the fabric from her gown hindered her movements.

Suddenly, Asher hurled his dagger towards her. She covered her face in horror, crying aloud as she did so. How could he betray her now?! Yet when the blow from the hurled blade did not come, she uncovered her eyes and saw that Asher had not the intention to slay her. Looking over her shoulder, Johanna spotted a woman with his blade embedded in her abdomen. Now was not the time to get sick, Johanna told herself bitterly as she fought back an up-rise of bile. The sound of clanging metal, screams of the dying, of the helpless, the images of the scene unfolding at hand filled her head, nauseated her. Fighting to regain her senses, Johanna began to move hastily towards Asher once more, and as she came upon him, she found him upended by a rather large and burly man. Fear struck her dead in the heart. Surely she would die here, on this night.

The weak hearted woman fought back the urge to sit in the midst of the carnage and cry. Cry for her mother, for her brothers, for the comfort of her home, for the old familiar smells of her shop. Instead, a spark of courage, the flame for survival ignited. The man that tortured her partner relentlessly would be eliminated. She spotted the short-sword at her feet, it had fallen from her hands after she covered her eyes to hide herself away from the horror. Now, with the sword once again in her hands, she had to save her companions life, no matter the cost.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, something clicked. One could call it her instincts, for she crept towards the man, timing her movements between each swing. And between each swing, she quickened her pace, until she was at a full sprint. Johanna approached him from behind, and with one quick thrust, she plunged the blade into his back, giving a frightening yell as she went. It was primal, filled with rage, and pain.

Johanna cut his assailant down.The nerveless corpse slid to one side, and Asher gasped from the sudden influx of air to his tormented lungs. Every cut on his body burned with agony, but the bastard had decided to toy with him first, so his injuries weren't too horrible.

His chest heaving with exertion, he slowly, painfully sat up. He couldn't fight anymore, not like this. The raiders were still attacking, and he was down. He'd done all he could. The pain was fuzzing up his mind.

In his haze, he saw Johanna above him, looking frightfully attractive. A sort of aura shimmered over her skin, and for that moment, Asher wondered what he hadn't seen before. He wanted to protect her. He had to. If only his blasted arms would work. "I'm sorry," he croaked, the words lost to the noise around him. Then the first explosion erupted from the ground.

A massive fireball, the size of a house, leapt up into the air, the heat burning against Asher's open wounds. The shock of the flame gave him the strength to sit up, and he noted, with some astonishment, the cloaked and hooded figures which now stood near the flame, one with his hand out, palm up. Fire leapt from his fingertips, actual fire.

The attack halted momentarily, and then a one of the newcomers rushed forward, and jumped on a bandit. A blast of lightning jumped from the newcomer's hands, searing the poor raider's face shut. He dropped silently.

The battle rapidly ended then. These supernatural men--Magi! They wered called Magi--quickly dispatched the few bandits stupid enough to fight. Asher saw flames and lightning jump from hands, and the Magi seemed to simply disappear into the dark at will. It was terrifying, yet oddly awe-inspiring.

"Step aside, young lady." From above him came a voice: one of the Magi. He could tell. "I will tend to him."

A soothing feeling came over one of the cuts, then another, and soon all of the pain had been swept away. The Magi simply touched him where he was injured, and the wounds sealed themselves. "Keep him safe," said the voice. Then the cloaked man disappeared again.

Asher groaned, relieved. "Johanna, thank you. So, so much. Ouch, damn it." He reached out and took her hand in his, grateful, truly grateful for the first time, that she was with him. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that." He scowled at the flames and sparks and shadows. "It looks like the battle is almost over. Let's just sit tight for a moment."

Watching amongst the carnage, Johanna saw Asher fall free from his aggressor's clutches and hit the ground. The man she had slain, toppled noiselessly to the ground. Immediately, she moved towards him, hurrying to Asher's side. Just as she knelt beside him, an explosion of fire tore through the night air. Shielding her eyes from the intensity of the flames, Johanna looked up in time to see strange hooded figures who seemed to be the cause of the massive explosion. The fireball in itself was vast, the size of a small cottage. Could it be? Could it be magic? A chord of terror struck her heart, what if they were in real danger? She had never witnessed any real magic before, until now.

It seemed that the ball of fire created a lull in the ongoing battle between the refugees and the raiders. Keeping her eyes upon the hooded figures who caused the explosion, she watched as one of the hooded figures moved towards a bandit, sending what looked like lightning, from his fingers tips, searing the man's face. His face melted into one cohesive pool of flesh. Johanna cringed in disgust and repulsion, she clung to Asher, holding fervently onto his forearm for support.

Then, the battle came to a halt. Anyone foolish enough to challenge these mysterious men were quickly dealt with in the same manner as the others had.She turned her eyes away, Johanna would not force herself to look upon the destruction surrounding her without scarring her mind.

"Step aside, young lady. I will tend to him." The words spoken to her didn't register in her mind until she looked up to see a hooded figure looming over Asher and her. She retreated far enough to provide him room. At first her initial instinct was to defend Asher in his wounded state. Yet before she could openly protest, her eyes widened in astonishment. The cloaked man passed his hands over Asher's wounds; touching them gently as he went. Before her very eyes, the wounds inflicted upon her companion began to heal over. She missed the chance to inquire after the man who had generously healed Asher for the man uttered a few words to her, "Keep him safe.", before disappearing.

Johanna repositioned herself by Asher's side as she heard him groan. He reached out and clasped her hand in his, his words were lost upon her ears for all Johanna could think about was his hand entangled around hers. She studied his fingers and knuckles before she looked at his face and heard the last bits of his words, "...You have no idea how much I appreciate that." Here she smiled at him, and turned her full attention to him once more. He commented on the scene of the battle coming to a close. So Johanna sat beside her friend, Asher, clinging to his hand with fear of what was to come next.

She soon found herself asking, "How do you feel? What did that man do? I saw him! He healed your wounds. Who has the power to do such a thing?" Her inquisitive mind started grinding gears as she searched for answers to her questions in her mind.

"I don't know what he did." Asher slowly sat up, reaching for one of the wounds. To his surprise, the skin felt smooth and unmarked, yet he could feel the throbbing beneath the surface beginning to return, however slight. "Whatever they did, it didn't heal my injury, just the skin. I'm not going to be fighting any battles for a while, yet."

After a few more moments, Asher slowly got his feet under him once more, straightening to his full height. Then he promptly fell against Johanna, supporting himself though his will and her help. She was a strange mix of hard and soft, and Asher was confused for a moment by the flash of emotion he felt. "Sorry," he grunted, but he was unable to make any move to stand on his own. He could walk, but only just.

He glanced over to one side, where a pair of horses stood, paralyzed with fear. Their owner lay dead at their feet: he wouldn't need them anymore. "Come on," he sighed. "We'll need to be mounted if we're going to keep up with the Magi, in my condition."

Only a half-formed plan bounced around his head. There might be a way he could use these Magi.

Her companion gave her a startling response, whomever that mysterious man was, healed the surface of the skin, but not the injury. The notion alone confounded her. She didn't have long to think about it, because Asher had risen to his feet, and rather unsteadily at that too. By instinct, she followed his lead, standing upright just in time to catch him. He wasn't overly heavy, not that she expected him to be, so her job of guiding him wasn't much of a burden.

He pointed out two horses that were readily available to use. Before she moved, Johanna placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled a short tune. With that, she slipped her arm around Asher's back, pulling him tightly to her hip, and pulled his other arm across her shoulders, holding even tighter to his hand. Together, they moved to the two horses that were saddled. As Johanna and Asher neared them, Serwyn, came trotting through the smoke and fire up to the two horses, and waited patiently alongside the other horses.

"Here. I can boost you up if you need me to." Johanna snatched the reins of one of the horses, a chestnut steed, and pulled the horse closer to them. She let go of Asher and held the horse still by grasping the horn of the saddle. Extending her free arm, she gestured for him to mount before stooping slightly to prepare to boost him up into the saddle. If he chose not to, then she would simply depart to mount Serwyn. "Should we bring the other horse with us? He might be of use to us later." Johanna asked.

"Yes, I think you're right." Asher grunted as he hefted himself up on to the horse, with Johanna's help. "Thank you," he hissed, still cursing at the internal aches and pains. Hopefully they would fade, but he would be damn uncomfortable until then. "Let's bring him along. One of these horses may get tired, and we also might be able to make use of a pack horse." Then he realized something: the Magi weren't moving.

The idea that Asher had suddenly burst to the surface. He slid off the horse again. "Let's try to follow these Magi. For one thing, we'll be safe while we're near them. But I think..." here Asher tapped his chin. "I think they might be heading in the same direction as we are. They also might know a whole treasure trove of information." He paused. Appropriate words, 'treasure trove'. "If we work at it well enough, we might be able to find something useful for our ordeal."

The night was only just beginning, and it didn't seem like the Magi were going to be leaving any time soon. "Here's what we'll do, for now." Asher chose his words with care. At the beginning of the venture, Johanna had been a tagalong, with him calling the shots. But now, having save each others lives, and spoken at great length, they were friends, and comrades. Asher didn't want to overstep his bounds. "Sleep in turns, keeping watch for either more bandits, or the Magi's departure. If they're still here in the morning, excellent. We'll begin following them whenever they decide to move, and see what we can find out."

He grimaced with pain. "If you don't mind, could you take the first watch?" Hoping she'd agree, Asher limped back to their campsite, reignited the fire after a few failed attempts, and promptly fell into the tent he had hastily pitched, drained and exhausted.

The traumatizing events of the night did not have long to sink into her thoughts when Asher had asked her to take first watch. At first, after Asher retired to his tent for the first part of the watch, Johanna waited until silence filled the air. Her thoughts were rampant, she needed to take a walk. Before leaving, Johanna collected a small bundle of sticks and twigs to feed the fire while she away, with that she departed, taking nothing more than the shortsword. She back-tracked her way through the scorched campsite of the refugees. Johanna wasn't sure as to why she had even bothered to come back. She examined the dead, and found the woman that Asher had slain. Kneeling beside the corpse, Johanna cast a backwards glance over her shoulder before exploring the woman's pocket-folds. Johanna fished out two copper coins, marked with Sevitel origins, and peculiar red bottle. The bottle itself was no larger than her palm in length wise. Tucking the bottle away into her own dress folds, Johanna rose to her feet and continued to explore the camp.

Not much time had passed until Johanna had reached the outskirts of the battle, where the explosion occurred. The landscape was charred with blackness, blood, and the stench of death. At the sight of such travesty, she couldn't help but to feel grief. The internal war in Sevitel had dire consequences on its people, that higher class were not aware of still.

Her thoughts wandered again, and while they wandered, Johanna lost herself in the surroundings. Before long she had made it to the edge of a campsite. Subconsciously, she was surprised that she had even discovered it by herself without any previous knowledge of its location. Crouching behind a low shrub, Johanna held her breath in hope that she had not been heard. She had discovered the campsite of the strange hooded people. From her location, she could see five hooded figures huddled around their fire talking in low, hushed tones. She couldn't quite pick out their mumbled speech. But she could see just as well. On one of the arms of the figures, there was a strange glove like device. Beneath the forearm, an empty glass bottle was strapped to the arm, she could even see strange copper coloured wire running along the fingertips and towards the bottle. How strange. Johanna had never lain eyes upon such a strange and unique device before. But what was it? Magic? A weapon of some sort? And then a nagging thought began to eat at her, was this device the cause of the massive explosion? Johanna decided to return to her own camp before she risked discovery.

Slipping away into the night without a sound, Johanna made her way back to camp. Upon her return, she found that the fire had dwindled, so she immediately set upon the task of feeding the flames with the sticks and twigs she had collected before hand. She decided that she would wait awhile longer before going to wake Asher for his watch. After all, she was wide awake, and her mind disturbed by the evenings events. Taking time to collect her thoughts and organize them into a less chaotic mess would give her peace of mind for the time. She pulled her knees close to her chest and stared deeply into the blue heart of the fire that crackled noisily.

[i]"

Asher slept like a log. For hours he practically snored. Then he woke up, groaning and hissing with discomfort as his injuries stung and his stiff muscles complained. He would never travel again after this. It was an oath he intended to keep. For sure. Not like last time.

He slowly inched his way free of the tent, stumbling over to the fire. "Sorry about the wait. Why didn't you wake me?"

He sat down at the fire with her, looking into the flames the same as her. He received no response."Johanna?" he tried again, looking at her rather than the fire.

She looked as if something had happened to her in the time he had been asleep. He had no idea what, but he did know that he wanted to help. "Something on your mind?" He asked.