Some of the others had begun talking. About what Ulemi couldn’t say since she hadn’t been listening, but from the tone of the conversation she deduced it wasn’t important. She sped up a bit for a little while, just to give herself some distance from the disturbance. The wind did the rest of the work for her, muffling the sound to the degree where it became noises rather than voices. She would play nice with these people. That much she had promised both herself and Azura. But she didn’t have to go as far as to indulge in their meaningless social rites. Pretending to be or like something was beneath her. Be honest, always. That was her way.

It was beautiful up here. She could see very far already, and they hadn’t even begun making any real progress even though they had been walking for quite some time. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of them would make it. People were bound to die or give up at some point or other, that much was certain. The question was who. The only thing she knew for sure was that she wasn’t going to. Azura, lord of twilight and prophecy, hadn’t shown herself to Ulemi in that fateful dream just to have her killed before she could complete her destiny. And she was damned if she was going to give up now that her goal was so clear.

The group continued their climb for the rest of the day. They were all quite fatigued when the decision was made that they should make camp and rest until first light. Firewood was gathered from what had been brought and what could be found, and before long a small campfire was burning in the midst of the tired little circle of travelers. They had managed to find some shelter in an outcropping in the rock which shielded them from both wind and snowfall. The cold was ever present, though, despite fire and furs.

Ulemi sat cross legged in the opening of her little tent, which served as both her quarters and an additional shield from the elements, and inspected the rest of the group while she ate a simple meal of jerky and bread. The campfire was and had always been a special place. She had many vivid memories from both her childhood in the Grey quarter and from later years in the mercenary camp, and some of the best ones were of the times she’d sat at the fire with the people she loved. She didn’t love anyone of these strangers in front of her, and while the prospect of her ever doing so seemed ridiculous at the time she knew she’d thought the same thing when she first entered the mercenary company. She suddenly got the urge to speak, to say or ask something, but she smothered it in the cradle. Instead, she simply continued eating and monitoring her travelling companions, wondering who they were and what they were doing here.