Not so long ago, the thought of fleeing his home would have seemed to him incredible. Yet not only had he done so, he had done so in the company of a member of the group of people he perhaps despised over all others, and he had done so to help her. That was his reason, when he thought about it. In name his objective was to remove the Light from power, but if he had not had the chance to help her, he would most likely have never attempted that goal. What he wanted, he had determined, was to help her become something more than the underling she had been, and indeed still was, so that she would be able to help counter the Light. He knew that by himself, he stood no chance; but if he could manage to spread the truth to more people, perhaps success was possible. Unfortunately, that was more easily said than done; he had learned as much since their escape.

After leaving the town cellar, he had led the girl to his cousin's shop. His cousin had been a costumer by trade, but, unlike his fellows, was never able to bring himself to ignore practical uses for his products. Based on previous tours of his cousin's shop, he knew that he would not be disappointed. The place had been locked up ever since his cousin's death; the Light had not seen much reason to loot a costume shop, and besides, refraining from doing so would allow them to laud their so-called virtue. The locks would have posed a difficulty, but his cousin had always kept a spare key hidden outside in case one was needed, and had shown him where it was concealed. Once inside, he locked the door behind them and set to work. Since it was past the middle of the year, cold weather would all too soon become a significant concern. Accordingly, he found for himself a moderately warm black outfit with red accents, to which he added gloves, boots, and a dark blue cape. The cape would have seemed unnecessary, but it was the closest thing he could find to a blanket. The girl had been far less straightforward. Her fashion sense was one of the things he despised about her class: it was frivolous, pointless, and impractical. At first she tried to push back on those grounds, but after he explained to her exactly what they had to consider and what would likely happen if they failed to do so, she became more cooperative. For her he eventually chose an outfit similar to his own: dark green with a gray cape. (Not a dress, to her chagrin; he had had to explain that they were running away, not attending something, and that a dress would only slow her down.) After changing into their new outfits, they searched the shop for anything else useful, such as food. There was little to be found, though he was able to procure two backpacks, in which they stowed their capes and the meager rations on hand, and two canteens, which they filled from the tap. He also found his cousin's hidden stash of weapons in case of an emergency: a sword and two daggers. The sword he took for himself; the daggers he gave to the girl. His cousin had also kept a small amount of money hidden in a back room, which he took as well, just in case. Thus equipped, they had left the shop, locking it behind them.

The next incident of import had occurred after their successful exit from the city, as he explained his plan. Because of the central location of the capital, it was impossible to leave the country entirely in less than several days. While it was entirely possible that their escape would go unnoticed for much longer, he knew that the border would certainly be watched against such as them. He also knew that, given his knowledge of international politics, the surrounding nations were unlikely to take a very stong stand against the Light, if they had not already succumbed to it. However, there was an area within this country which was more or less safe from the Light: the wasteland. For a very long time the wasteland had had an evil reputation. It was a odd hybrid of desert and jungle, arid but filled with plants. It was situated in a patch of rugged terrain, and was known for being unforgiving at best. There was a large body of myth and legend connected with the wasteland, but it remained a fact that the area had never been properly surveyed, and many explorers who ventured into it never returned. It was a place full of danger, but that meant the Light would be very hesitant to follow two nobodies like themselves into what many of them regarded as certain doom. There was significant risk, but no more than the risk of staying where they could be found.

However, he had forgotten for the moment that for all practical purposes, the girl was still part of the Light. When he had explained that he planned to hide in the wasteland, her reaction had not been favorable. She had been incredulous at first, then fearful. Realizing his mistake, he had managed to hedge on the question enough to satisfy her without leaving the plan out of the realm of possibility. He would wait until she had nowhere else to run, so as to force her to face her fear. Since then, they had traveled in uncomfortable silence, punctuated only by periodic comments from the girl to which he made no reply and which eventually petered out altogether. By late afternoon, they had reached the forest, which provided them with a degree of shelter from any pursuit.

Behind him, without warning, the girl suddenly collapsed to the ground. He stopped and turned halfway back, mildly annoyed.

"I can't do this," she said, without so much as lifting her face from the dirt.

He realized, strangely for the first time, that for the past several hours the girl had been noticeably flagging. Her stamina was far less than his own, yet somehow she had managed by a heroic effort to match his relentless pace for the entire day without a word of complaint until now, when she was quite literally too exhausted to stand up. He turned fully toward her, noticing a tinge of remorse. He had underestimated her. In the back of his mind, he had been waiting for her to ask for a halt, but she never had. He certainly had not expected her to wait so long before doing so, until she was entirely spent.

Yet there remained the fact that they were in the process of fleeing the government of their country, and by extension the vast majority of the people of the country. Their present location was still too exposed to afford him much ease; they were still not far from a more-or-less frequented road, and it would only take one set of inquisitive eyes to betray them. Fortunately, his knowledge of the nation's geography was extensive, and he remembered from a map he had studied years ago that not far away was a small creek where they could be mostly sheltered from any casual passerby.

"I know of a place where we can stop for the night, not far from here," he said. "Can you walk at all?"

"No," she replied, still not moving.

"Then I suppose we have no other choice," he muttered. Moving toward her, he turned her onto her back, then took her in his arms. He barely restrained a shudder as the memories hit, memories of his friend who was gone and to whom he could never speak again. He remembered everything, remembered how they had researched together, how, near the end, he had held her hand, how he had calmed her fear beneath the razed temple, and he knew that it was all gone, gone forever, like a breath of wind... Forcing himself back into reality, he began grimly to trudge ahead through the forest.

By the time he reached the stream, he had become acutely conscious of his own weariness. It is one thing to walk through a forest for an hour; it is another to do so while carrying someone. The girl had fallen asleep; he laid her on the ground next to a tree, near the bank of the stream, then went about surveying their surroundings. Not far away, the bank of the stream was less steep, sloping to a miniature beach. He took note of the spot, then returned to where he had left the girl. After refilling both their canteens from the stream, he sat down near her with his back against a tree. Because it was still summer, they would need no fire, which was just as well. Looking back, it had been rather selfish of him to ignore the girl as he had. Oddly, though it was because of her weakness that he should have been more attentive, it was because of her weakness that he had not been. It was rather dangerous, he realised, to hold in contempt those less able than oneself; dangerous for them. With that thought in mind, he drifted into a light sleep.

He awoke suddenly. The forest was distinctly visible, and the leaves rustled as though stirred by a breeze. There was a dull feeling of pressure in the back of his head, and the leaves seemed at times to blur together into swirling monochromatic vortexes. Time seemed to run slowly. Almost without realizing it, he stood and walked forward several paces, then stopped. As if in answer, a few moments later, a figure emerged from the shadows ahead of him. There was no plausible explanation for such placement or sharpness of shadow, but he hardly noticed. The figure was that of a young officer of the Light's military; as he approached, a number of other figures also drifted into view on either side. Noticing him, the officer stood still, and they gazed at each other for several seconds; then, simultaneously, each drew his sword. Despite this, they remained staring at each other for some moments more. The officer spoke first.

"It was folly to think that you could escape the Light." The officer's voice echoed faintly.

"It was folly of you to come here." His voice was changed from its accustomed tone, and seemed vaguely chorused.

"You are under arrest, in the name of the Light. Will you come quietly, or must I use force?" The echo was clearer now. The force referred to seemed slightly unnerved, but managed to disguise it.

"Will you go quietly, or would you prefer casualties?" The ironic grate of his voice was exaggerated, and also echoed.

"Watch your words, outlaw. The Light will not be denied."

"I am denying it now." The echo of the last word persisted for several seconds, during which distant, unidentifiable sounds could be faintly heard. The shadows began to blur together more aggressively, shifting form rapidly. "You are a fool to believe in the Light. Its leaders are concerned only with establishing their own authority and ensuring that you do not question it. Whatever power they may claim is based on their authority alone, an authority that exists only because they taught people like you as much, and you believed it. I do not accept that authority. Because of that, I am a threat to them, because I can teach others to reject their authority as well. And so they sent you to stop me. Be warned: I will not be stopped so easily."

"As you wish," the officer spat, and lunged toward him with drawn sword. Without flinching, he made a rapid slice through the air with his own sword; there was a momentary flash, and the officer stumbled backward, his sword shorter by half and red-hot at the end. The officer gazed at him with resentment, but growing fear. The shadows rippled and stabilized alternately, while a steady crackle grew in volume from no discernible direction.

"Why do you serve the Light? If you are important to them, why do they keep you in ignorance? The do not value you. They value only your body, for the service it can give them."

The officer lunged again, this time joined by the soldiers, which came to about half a dozen. At that moment, it felt as though his mind sparked. For a moment, he seemed to grow larger; the dull pressure that had lurked in the back of his head swelled to a roar, and he gazed at the advancing soldiers with fury. The crackle grew into almost a scream. The soldiers abruptly stopped mid-stride, some falling backwards with the force of his glare. Their faces registered fear and horror. In the next moment, the soldiers had taken to their heels in raw terror, and his mind had snapped from a blazing fury into a cold fog.

He awoke slowly. His thoughts had reverted to the muddled haze of memories and plans that had typified his imprisonment, and it was difficult for him to eventually worm his way through them and into reality. At length, he was able to inform himself that, firstly, it was still dark; and secondly, that an artificial light glowed nearby. With effort, he clambered quickly to his feet, expecting that the presence of the light was not a good sign. A rapid glance told him that the girl was still asleep; she would not be awakened by a mere light after her exertions of the previous day. The light proved to be that of a lantern, which proved to be resting at the feet of a stranger who leaned comfortably against a tree opposite him, gazing at him and his companion with a benign, almost mischievous look. The stranger was young, almost certainly under twenty, and was dressed in a black military-style outfit, topped with an oddly formal black hat, from beneath which escaped a tangle of light, wavy hair. Before he could ask who the stranger was, the latter spoke first.

"My greetings to you. I hear you got on the wrong side of the Light."

"That is accurate."

"Then we're both in good company. The name's —, and the Light's given me about as much trouble as a government can. I asked them some questions they had a hard time answering, and they went after me with a vengeance. Any family of mine that they could get a hold of they executed, whether the short way with a sword or the long way with a cell. Would have got me too, but I was a mite too slippery for 'em. I expect your stories are much the same."

He nodded assent.

"Good. Now, you'll be wondering who I am, where I'm from, and why I'm here. Well. I'm a scout from a counter-revolution group called, of course, the Shadow. I'm here so I can ask you to join us, simple as that."

"How did you find us?"

"Got a tip from a contact in the city that some escapees would be heading this way. The Shadow needs every man it can get at this point, so I offered to see if you would willing to give us a hand. I passed a couple of soldiers a ways back, so I figured you wouldn't be far off."

"Soldiers."

"Yes sir. About half a dozen of 'em, and they were on a hunt."

"I suppose that leaves us little choice. Outrunning them with our provisions would be difficult." He suddenly felt a wave of weariness, and leaned against the tree nearby. "How far away is your camp?"

"Conveniently, it's only about a day's walk from here at the moment. I'm sure your friend'll be glad to hear that; it looks like she had a rough day."

Sure enough, the girl was still obliviously asleep. The stranger had hit on his concern precisely. For himself, he would have been able to travel for a week if that had been necessary, but he knew that the girl was much weaker than he was. If the scout had not arrived, it was not unlikely that she would have been unable to outpace the soldiers. In a way, he was somewhat irked that the stranger had showed such evident concern for the girl. He certainly had not; in fact, he was a primary reason for her current condition. He had helped her escape, but he had not reckoned on all the implications of the decision. It was one of the few cases where he had miscalculated, badly, and the distaste of it continued to linger. The scout went on.

"Do you think she'd be up to starting for the base now? Sure, it's the middle of the night and she's tired enough to sleep through me talking," the scout's mouth twisted for a moment into a half-smile, "but I think it'd be a good idea to put plenty of trees between us and those soldiers as soon as convenient. Once we arrive, she'll be able to catch up on rest in safety."

He knew less than nothing about what the girl might think, but he agreed with the scout's assessment. Even if he had to carry her the entire way, at least they would be out of danger sooner than anticipated. He decided to ask her; to that end, he moved heavily away from the tree, knelt beside her, and gently shook her awake. For several moments, she lay inert as her mind resolved itself. Then, with a small moan, she sat up, then glanced curiously from him to the scout. He stood.

"This is a scout for a group opposing the Light, called the Shadow."

The scout bowed, and gave his name. "At your service."

"He has offered to escort us to his headquarters. Because, by his report, we are being pursued by a number of the Light's soldiers, he suggested that we start the journey now to maintain our lead."

"I really wouldn't have bothered you, but the base is only about a day's hike from here," the scout hastened to add, "and once we get there you'll be able to catch up on any rest you've skipped."

The girl nodded, though reluctantly. She closed her eyes, sighed, then opened them again. "I think I can make it until then."

"Take your time," the scout said. "I mean, we don't have all day, but we don't have to hurry too badly."

The girl nodded, then climbed wearily to her feet, steadying herself against the tree.

"Are we all ready?"

He picked up their packs, offering the scout the girl's pack, which the latter readily accepted. "I think so."

"Well, in that case... Let's get started."

As they left the clearing, just before the scout extinguished the lantern, his eye fell on the severed blade of a sword, half-buried in the detritus of the forest floor. The blunt end — cut — glowed faintly. With a dark chill, he followed the scout and the girl.