Return To Wishwell

Sara watched Tain, Peragrine, and Carson ride away with the supplies and horses, watched by all bystanders as they rode out of a destroyed Wishwell. Surely they’d go back to the camp to get their mule. . . But Sara didn’t care about that. She returned her attention to Yarnell.

“Yarnell, try to take a-”

Yarnell was unconscious.

Sara though quickly. *“His lungs must have given out!”* She looked around to see if people were getting up.

They were, but most were hardly even paying attention to her, picking up others, or limping away.

Sara turned away and ran just down the road, to the door of the Berreto’s. Without knocking, she burst in. “MRS. BERRETO!”

“I’m here, dear! I saw you in the window,” Widow Berreto said, standing next to the door, by the window. “Where’s Yarnell?”

“That’s what I’m here to tell you…” Sara paused.

“He went to check on the noise,” the old woman said. “But if the noise had to do with you…!”

Sara sighed. “I don’t know how to say this nicely… He got shot.”

Mrs. Berreto covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh, my God.”

There was an awful silence, in which Sara simply watched Mrs. Berreto begin to cry, before the old woman brushed past Sara, and rushed out into the street, leaving Sara standing in the room alone.

After a moment’s consideration, Sara strode upstairs and out an open window. She was going to head back to camp, regather her thoughts.

She took to the roofs, and headed out of Wishwell through her secret route. As she scaled the cliff, she looked out over her hometown. She remembered what it looked like in her younger days… No lights, no pavement, no asphalt roads, no silly power lines. And definitely no exploded Town Center or missing gate!

She remembered her own house, wooden and cozy, the hallway with her room on the left side, her brother on the right, and her parents at the far end.

Looking out at her hometown… she couldn’t help but feel as if it were shameful to set foot in it.

She tore her vision away from the ruined and ruinous town, and quickly made her way down to the waiting Arrow. Furor was there as well, curled up on top of the horse, cute as any cat.

Both animal’s ears perked up as Sara came into the stable-cave.

*“Sara!”* Yipped Furor *“I hope you got the sour one a place; I really tried to stall them as long as I could.”* He gave her big, soft eyes to show his sincerity.

Sara smiled wearily. “It didn’t work, my fry.”

Furor whimpered quietly. *“Oh. . . Well, what do we do now?”*

Arrow snorted, and pawed the ground. He clearly expected Sara to mount and head somewhere.

Sara clambered onto Arrow, placing Furor on her lap. She walked the horse till she was outside the cave-stable. Then she cantered. She was in deep thought, overwhelmed about Carlson. The town. The fight that seemed to never end. How was she going to end this?

*‘The Mayor,’* she remembered. *‘I was going to pay the Mayor a visit.’*

But she hadn’t. Typhoon had happened instead.

*‘Ah! Typhoon!*’ Another thing she’d forgotten.

When had her life gotten so busy? When had it all fallen apart?

*‘When I’d decided to help people,’* she groused. Well, that was easy to fix. Stop helping people…?

*‘It’s always an option,’* She thought. *‘After all, you can’t help others if you can’t help yourse-”*

***“MONSTA!!!”*** howled Furor, with all the power of his little fox lungs.

Sara whipped her head around. “WHERE?!” she asked, just as her eyes alit upon it.

A giant, metal roaring cart-looking thing was hurtling towards her, bouncing through the grass.

Sara joined him in screaming at the top of their lungs. ***“AAAAHHHH!”***

This, of course, made the horse scream as well. “***BROOOOO HINNNEY!”***

And was it Sara’s imagination, or was the metal beast also screaming with the sound of people?

Either way, Sara didn’t get a chance to think about it, because Arrow reared up with such terror that she and Furor were thrown clean off. In it’s panic, the horse was already streaking meters away towards the forest before it’s riders even hit the ground.

“Ow.” Sara wheezed as the air was knocked out of her.

Suddenly, the giant metal roaring cart screeched as it came to a stop right next to her.

“WHAT, WHAT IS IT, WHAT’S GOING ON?!” cried a male voice.

“Emily, dear, did you ju-” an older female voice

“I’m going to find out!” called out a younger female voice, followed by a metallic thud.

As Sara got up as fast as she could, a woman roughly around her age came out of the right side of the metal monstrosity and ran towards her.

“Excuse me, miss, are you all right?” The dark-skinned stranger wore a loose dress that appeared to be all one peice of cloth, wrapped around her, as well as a heavy wool shawl. She wore a satchel over this, and from Sara’s unique position, she also noted the very old-style sandals she wore.

“Who are you?” Sara said faintly. “What’s your business here? Are you an ally of thedude? What is this thing? WHERE’S MY HORSE?” Sara came to the sudden realization that her horse was gone.

The woman in the dress turned to the metal cart. “Well, she asks a lot of questions.”

“Can we answer all of them? Can she answer ours?” the male voice from before asked.

It was then that Sara realized that the cart was holding two other people on it’s back!

However, before she could exclaim her surprise, the strange girl put a hand on her shoulder. “My name is... Yasmine.” she said.

“Never heard of you. Last name?”

Yasmine smiled. “You wouldn’t understand it. It’s Easterner.”

“I don’t care,” Sara muttered. ”Tell me.”

Yasmine paused, staring at her with a disarming smile, before turning back to the other two in the Jeep, who both shrugged.

“You're hiding it,” Sara accused. “What's your real name, first and last?”

Yasmine shook her head, smiling disarmingly. “No, my name is Yasmine… Mirrorblade, is the closest translation.”

Sara wasn’t buying it. At all. She stared. “You tell me yours, I tell you mine.”

Yasmine Mirrorblade turned to the other two. “The one in the back there is Sandhya Yash. Her last name in our language is far more complex, but you’ll forgive me for not giving it to you to murder with your unrefined tongue?” Normally, such a statement would be insulting at the best of times, but the way that Yasmine’s voice lilted, and turned it into a question, somehow lessened the sting.

Sara though for a moment, while Yasmine introduced the other in the monster-thing.

“The one in front here is a good friend…” She turned to the man, who’s long, blonde hair and unkempt beard made him look like he hadn’t seen a barber in his whole life… “Is that not right…?” Yasmine asked.

The man straightened up, wincing. “Ah. Yes…” He gripped the front of the thick glass thing in front of him and pulled himself up over it to see Sara. He had piercing blue eyes, sunk deep into his brows. Clearly, he needed sleep, and perhaps a good meal… or 3.

“The name’s William. William Thunderpants.”

Sara stared. “Almost everyone in Morcia speaks English. And I doubt you’ve traveled that far.” she said to the girl.

Yasmine made to defend herself eloquently, but the other woman from the back stood up. She had long, fraying black hair, with strands of silver scattered here and there. Her eyes were a deep orange, and her face seemed sad. She too was dark-skinned like Yasmine, and wore a much larger dress and shawl of the same strange make, though with different and more muted colors.

“Yasmine and I are travellers from the Fire desert. Clearly, you have not traveled there, so do not assume you know the whole of Militiregnum.” she said, a bit more snootily than Yasmine.

“Well, then, Sandhya, your ‘close friend’ gave it away. There is literally no way his last name is Thunderpants.”

Yasmine facepalmed. ‘Thunderpants’ seemed insulted, and gave an indignant gasp, that turned into a pained wheeze, and he collapsed back into the cart with a yelp.

Sara sighed. “Case in point.”

Yasmine gasped as well, as both her and Sandhya rushed to check on him. “Pe-Thu-ah, Will! Are you ok?”

William waved them both off. “I’ll be fine. What I really want to know is if the lady’s all right. Because if so, I really think we should be moving on.”

“Quite right,” Sandhya agreed. “You need a doctor, and soon.”

“Ha, thought you were gonna say Peragrine.” Sara said.

All three of the riders turned their eyes on her.

“What did you say?” William asked.

“Sorry, Mr. *Thunderpants*, I said, ‘Ha, thought you were gonna say Peragrine.’”

Yasmine leaned over the glass front, her arms resting on it. Her smile was replaced with a blank poker-face. “Peragrine.”

“Yeah, Peragrine.”

“Peragrine, who?”

“What is this, a knock-knock joke? I don’t know! Never got that. Though, he did come along with two really grumpy guys.”

“Tain and Carson!” William exclaimed, before getting glares from the other two women.

“Yes! Bingo! That’s them.” Sara said.

All three were clearly doing their very best to not look interested.

“Oh. Cool. Those guys. Saw them just last week at a pit stop… Somewhere.” William muttered. “Cool guys.”

“Really, *Thunderpants*? *Really*?” Sara asked.

“Hey, the name Thunderpants goes on for generations. Unbroken.”

“I almost feel sorry for all your future descendants.”

“You shall never know the greatness of the Thunderpants name. Nevermind that, though; Are you all right? My friend Yasmine nearly ran you over with our Jeep, and for that we apologize.”

“Yeah. I noticed. I’m fine. Not like *Thunderpants* over there.” she said, coming over to the side of what they’d called a ‘jeep’.  “He looks a little beat-up…” Indeed, now that she was getting a closer look at him, she could see he was bandaged up quite a bit underneath his ragged clothing that clearly didn’t fit him.

She turned back towards Wishwell, where some more smoke than usual was still rising. “The doctor in town is busy. REAL busy.” She turned back to the three. “I have some medical experience, if you like.”

The three turned to each other briefly, communicating without words.

“Very well,” Yasmine replied. “Just one question.”

“Yes, Ya-ha- uhh… Nevermind. Yes?”

“ ‘Yas-mine.’” Yasmine corrected. “Are you loyal to King thedude?”

Sara looked down at her completely un-modern clothes. She motioned to herself. “No. Definitely not.”

Yasmine smiled. “Well then that makes 4 of us.”

“I’m assuming you all know how to ride? We should get out of the open.” Sara said, looking back at Wishwell, realizing her horse had already ran to camp. She whistled sharply.

Yasmine nodded. “We can, but why don’t you just hop into the jeep here next to Sandhya, and you can direct us to your place?”

Sara seemed sort of offended. “First of all, that... *Thing* can’t maneuver through the forest, and my horse can. Second of all, I don’t associate with technological things like that.” But afterwards she smiled.

“Oh. Well, ok.” Yasmine seemed surprised, but took it well enough. “We’ll just follow you for as long as we’re able then.”

Just as Sara was about to say something, Arrow came galloping over, right up to a certain distance where he slowed down and cautiously came up behind Sara. Sara sighed, relieved. “This here is Arrow. He can hold two. I can run. So can Furor, which is the fox that is sitting on my feet.”

Yasmine shook her head. “That’s ok. We’ll drive up to the forest, and from there we…” She glanced at William. “Well, we’ll walk.”

William nodded gamely.

“So.. Me on Arrow to direct him, and *Thunderpants* behind me, and you two walking? Or, Mr. *Thunderpants*, would you like it better if ‘Yahz-mine’ was in front?” Sara stumbled over ‘Yasmine’

“No, we’ll drive.”

“No, once we’re in the forest.”

“Oh!” Yasmine exclaimed. “Um, yes. Pe-Will behind you.”

“Hmm.. So his name starts with a P...Anyways! Lets go.”

~~~~

The sun was hidden in the forest, as the day reached evening. Sara helped William off of Arrow, as Yasmine and Sandhya came into the camp, taking everything in.

“You live here?” Yasmine asked.

“Yuppers.” Sara said, using her best old-hermit-fisher-guy voice.

William stepped away from Arrow, and nearly fell over as he limped towards a stool.  Yasmine rushed forward and brought it closer, and he accepted it gratefully. “Thanks, Em.”

“Em?” Sara said, curiously.

“Em-!” William began, before Yasmine interrupted.

“It is a long story,” she laughed, waving a hand. “He is P. I am M. It is weird. It would not make any sense.”

Sara laughed, then put it to a sudden halt. “Yeah, no.”

Sandhya nodded sagely before adding, “I am L.”

The other two looked at her in confusion.

Sara repeated her sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, no.”

A snort came from the far corner, while Sara was tying Arrow to a tree.

Having sat William down, Yasmine’s eyes roved the whole camp, until it came to rest on Sara tying up Arrow to a tree next to…

“Oh my.” She nudged Sandhya, who followed her gaze, and also looked surprised.

Sara followed their gaze, and saw…

“Oh hey, it’s Carson's old uniform. And Tain's old farmer clothes.” Sara raised an eyebrow. “Guess they didn't need that stuff. But the mule is gone! Guess they didn’t have time to pack everything?”

Next to Sara, Furor yipped. *“Yeah, when Tain woke up, they took off like the wind. Again, sorry!”*

To ‘P’, ‘M’ & ‘L’, it seemed out-of-the-blue that Sara said: “It’s ok.”

William ‘P’ Thunderpants asked, “What do you mean ‘they didn’t have time’?”

“And why is it ‘ok?’” Yasmine ‘M’ Mirrorblade further asked.

“Are they here?” Sandhya ‘L’  Yash finished.

“Sorry, Furor was talking to me, and no, they left just a few hours ago. And it’s ok because I gave them horses.”

William’s eyebrows rose. “That was mighty kind of you. How did they seem?”

“Grumpy. Except for Peragrine. He got the most free stuff.”

“Free stuff?” Yasmine echoed.

“Yeah.” Sara began counting off her fingers. “Betsy, an Arabian, a green coat, boots, being able to talk with Furor like me, and supplies. But everyone got the supplies.”

“Wow.” Yasmine remarked, unsure really of what to say. “Yes, that’s… really very kind of- Did you steal any of that? Are you some sort of bandit?”

Sara shook her head. “No. I did have to steal the horse and some supplies, unfortunately. Neither of us could buy them,  and we’re stealing from thedude anyway.”

William and Yasmine clearly liked that idea. “Aha! Good on you and Peragrine then,” the man said.

Sandhya peered past Sara. “Why do you have so many steeds? She pointed at the two horses and the mule tied up to the tree somewhat removed from the camp.

Sara petted  the head of a particular one, a worn out looking dapple grey. “This one is named Typhoon. Peragrine and Tain helped me save him.”

“Save him fr- Oh dear.” exclaimed William, along with the others whom realized that the reason Typhoon looked so worn and strange was because half of him was metallic.

Sara realized that they realized. “Oh. Don’t worry about that. It’s a long story.”

William paled, before turning to the other two women. “Does that metal remind either of you of... “

Yasmine and Sandyha both glanced between William and Typhoon, recognition appearing on both of their faces.

“Our friend Burnie?” Sandyha whispered. The other two nodded.

Sara raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t really paying much attention, so she didn’t hear, but she knew they were whispering.

“He’s part robot,” She said over her shoulder as she crouched down and entered her tent, leaving the flap open.  Snatching up her small First-Aid kit, a small box, she came back out to see the three were still holding their whisper-conference.

“Ok, Thunderpants, what’s the issue? How’d you get hurt?” She didn’t expect a straight answer, but hopefully it would help her diagnose.

The three regarded her with heavy suspicion in their eyes. William made a futile effort to stand up, before asking, “Where did you get that horse?”

“William, don’t try to get up. This box ha-” She said softly and kindly before getting interrupted.

“First thing’s first; The Cyborg.” Yasmine said sweetly, but her eyes were cold.

“Hm. Alright then. It all started… Hm.. Furor, When did it start again?”

Furor barked. *“The Green One! Supplies!”*

“Oh, right!” Sara set the box down on a stump and animatedly began recounting the relevant details of past few days as fast as she could.

“So, Me and Peragrine and Furor were leaving the Grumps to get food.

**Therump!**  We put- we went to the local stable. We were looking for horses. We got a chestnut, the mayor's horse, *blah blah blah*. I was looking at the horses. **Yikes!** One had scratches *all along* its body, with a note on the feed bucket that read,

DO NOT FEED!  *I am sad*. I go to the feed room, get a sack of food, and feed it. *Cuz I smart*. ***Yowzers!*** The scars start glowing! ***CRASH!*** He *kicks* the stall door, it goes directly into another horses stall, **PABLOS**. ***Yikes!”***

Sara ended abruptly. “That's Typhoon. I feel you understand that I don’t wanna tell any more until we get to trust each other more?”

Her audience of three all stared blankly.

She turned to Furor next to her. “Was that clear?” Furor yipped affirmatively.

Yasmine recovered first. “So… Typhoon was in the city? Some sort of experiment?”

“Yes. I took him… with some help. I… Might h-Nevermind. William, About your injuries?”

While clearly still preoccupied by the Cyborg Robot Horse, William complied. “Yes.” He looked down at himself. “I got into a very large and deadly dual with some garrison guards. You’ll find sword cuts and stabs, some mace wounds, a plasma burn or 4…”

“Oh.” Sara said blankly. “Uh,-Oh, hey, I never washed that shoulder armor fro- ANYWAYS… Lemme have a look.” Sara walked over to one wash bin and pulled out some clean clothes.

.

She sat in front of William, examining his wounds. “Wow, I think that was caused by a… Either a mace or someone throwing a sprouting potato. No. Definitely a mace.”

William rasped out a chuckle. “You should see the other guy.”

“....Oh yeah?” She said as she poured some antibacterial onto a cloth,  and pressed it firmly against a wound.

William hissed, but beared it. “Yeah. He’s missing a head.”

“Sorry. You kinda have a lot of bruises to avoid.”

“No, I appreciate it.”

Yasmine tapped Sara on the shoulder. “Do you mind if I take a look at Typhoon? I promise not to…” she paused, unsure how to finish.

“Sure, Just try not to touch his mechanical side… He might have a hidden button or something… I don’t understand anything about it.”

Yamsine smiled. “Thank you. You are most gracious.”

“Thank you.  Eh…” She examined more gruesome wounds. “You sure you weren't attacked by thedude himself?”

Wiliam gave a nervous chuckle. Sandhya’s countenance seemed to wither.

“No, but like I said, it was a pretty big fight. You seem like a scrappy combatant in a pinch. Wish you could have seen it.” he remarked casually.

“Probably would'a gotten shot.” She mumbled. “Again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Again? So you have fought before?”

Sara chuckled. “Ohh, yeah.”

“Against thedude, right?”

“Indeed.” Sara frowned.

William seemed more at ease with this knowledge. A brief silence followed, wherein while Sara finished cleaning his wounds and began bandaging him with clean and proper bandages, he wordlessly stared at the old woman Sandhya, who stared back.

“Well, you certainly seem more cheery, now.” Sara broke the silence and stood up.

William attempted to get up. This time he was assisted by Sandhya. Yasmine walked back over from Typhoon. The three guests all seemed to confirm something before turning back to Sara.

Sara grasped her dagger, seeing them all arrayed against her. “Do you have something to say?” She said suspiciously with a hint of menace.

William nodded. “Helpful hunter, my name is Peter Silverstine. This is my sister, Emily Silverstine. We’re accompanied by our mutual friend, Mrs. Richardson. I myself have just escaped Thunderclap prison with the help of these ladies, along with a few others, including the others you helped yesterday.

“Silverstine… Silv- I heard that name before… Possibly? Or maybe it was Snakeytwig…. Twig! Furor, Have you seen Twig?”

Furor’s face sank into a sad face. *“No. Not since Green, Grumpy and Grouchy left.”*

“Huh. You came up with nicknames. Well, she’ll turn up.”

The Silverstines were staring at Sara sideways. “Is she talking to the fox?” Peter asked. Emily nodded.

“Yes. He’s an enchanted fox. Apparently tuned to me. So we talk. Peragrine can too. It's handy.”

Emily shrugged. “Not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of. Congrats.” She gestured to Peter. “Thank you for your medical supplies. Is there any way we can repay you for this?”

Sara frowned slightly. “No. Not really.” Her eyes widened. “I have an insane idea...But then again, I always do. And it always goes terribly.” She stared blankly at her camp.

“Before you tell me that…” Peter began. “...Is there anything else you can share with us if we’re being open with you?”

“Such as your own name?” Mrs. Richardson requested.

Sara shook her head. “Sorry, yes. I’m Sara Pinewood. I… Am against the town and for the town of Wishwell.” She paused. “I grew up there. But, Do you want my whole life’s story? Just asking, because I said it once without asking and got Carlson and Tain all huffy.”

Both Peter and Emily’s eyebrows dipped. “Yeah, that sounds like Carson.” grumbled Peter.

Mrs. Richardson clarified in her soft tone. “I think we’d specifically like to hear about our friends. Though we wouldn’t be against your life’s story either, if you think it’s important.”

“It has to do with my insane idea, So I’ll sum it up."

~~~

"I grew up In Wishwell with my parents and my brother, Victor. A war was coming up. A military guy  came to us. I was 14 and don’t remember much. He enlisted my parents. They left to train. Around a few months later, we got news that…”

Sara began to stutter, and spoke almost angrily.

“They **died**. A mayor came to rule that town. Sent by thedude. He was mayor Thatt Guy. I, young and foolish, refused to turn from my simple childhood life, and went to the forest to live. They didn’t wanna deal with Victor, so they threw him… out. I don’t know by what means… I taught myself how to fight, and hunt and all the essentials for living a, you could say, rugged life. I fought against the town, for the town. 15 years later, A group of three come along.”

She spoke softly again, and caught a breath.

“Furor met them, He and Carson got into an itty-bitty fight. Just a few claw marks..and bites. I foolishly took them to my camp without interrogating them.

They spoke their business. Dunno what their doing now. Enter Typhoon story here. Peragrine took all Typhoon’s energy and put it into a ball. Guards come in. He throws the ball at them. Come to think of it, That was a little bit overkill. I ran out, leaping roof to roof until I reached The Burrito’s.”

It sounded like burrito and came out as burrito because she was talking fast. Now she hopped from side to side, mimicking a conversation.

“Yarnell! I need your EMP Bomb!”

**~~~**

Willi-Peter waved his hands in the air. “You’re losing me. Burritos?”

“Sorry. Yarnell Berreto. Some acquaintances in town. Anyhow:” Sara launched into a re-enactment of a conversation, hopping back and forth.

~~~

*“ ‘Yarnell! I need your EMP bomb!’*

‘Oh, sure you wanna use my idea now.’

*‘I’m serious, Yarnell! A Cyborg needs saving!’*

‘Uh, what? Here you go.’

I leap across the roofs back to the stable. Pereagrine’s gone. I follow a path of destruction. A guard stands up! After a little back and forth insulting, ow! I was shot!”

Sara pointed to a bloody set of shoulder armor in a washbin.

“I ignore the pain, crouch just in time, Hundred of shots hit where I was, I tripped them, leaped onto Arrows back and darted for camp! I see the three and Typhoon!

‘Git outta da way!’ I yell, I throw the EMP bomb directly at Typhoon! Giant blast!

Uh oh! I just realized vital parts are electronic. Hey Tain, Save this horse, will ya?

Yay!! Everyone lives and we’re all happy! We sleep.

I wake up! Carson wakes up next!”

~~~~

Sara’s smile turned into a straight face.

“This doesn’t end happily. And, You’ll be surprised. Are you sure you're ready? To hear this?”

Once again, the three looked at each other, causing Sara a slight bit of annoyance. They all turned back to her.

“Yes.” Mrs. Richardson.

“They’re our friends.” Peter.

“We need to hear it.” Emily.

“Alright.” Sara relayed the Carlson Situation, describing how she’d wanted to help him, How he turned into a Carl Freeman, and not a Carson Flemming. And how she’d gotten him set up in Wishwell, before Tain and Peragrine has bulldozed into town and ruined everything.

And how the ending ended, sadly.

Surprisingly, her audience did not interrupt. Perhaps it was how she related it more calmly and quietly compared to her antics moments earlier.

Sara’s face turned serious. “I need to get away from Wishwell. They’ll hunt me down.”

Her frown turned into a worried face. *“Then me and Victor will get even farther apart.”* She thought.

Peter considered this breifly, while Emily asked a question. “But haven’t they always hunted you down?”

“No. They know where I am, though. But after that big mess, they surely will.”

“I see.” Emily said.

“You were a thorn in their side before, but now you’re a real threat,” Peter clarified.

Mrs. Richardson asked another question. “What about the village? They might need you more than ever now.”

Sara shook her head, her frown deepening. “Its no use. The boat’s sunk to deep to pull back up.”

“Huh?”“What?” “I’m sorry, say again?”

Sara sighed. “Pretend the town is a boat and Mayor Guy is the ocean. The town is sinking into the ocean of silliness of Mayor Guy. I’ve been single-handedly trying to bail out my hometown for years now, with little to no success. Now, it's sunk too deep for me, the only tugboat.” She couldn't help letting her bitter tone through.

“Oh!” “Ahhh.” “You’re speaking metaphorically.”

“So...What Brings you to Wishwell?” Sara asked, trying to change the subject.

Peter shrugged. “Like I said briefly before, escaping Thunderclap Prison. Medical attention from fighting various guards with wild abandon.”

“Oh. Yes.”

After a brief silence, Mrs. Richardson spoke up. “You are welcome to travel with us, if you have need. But… Might I suggest something else?” she turned from Sara to Emily, and back again, her sorrowful eyes filled with thought.

“Sure, ma’am.”

“What do you have in mind, Sandh- er, sorry. Mrs. Richardson?” Emily asked.

Mrs. Richardson paused in an unwittingly dramatic fashion. “I’d… like to help you free Wishwell. Once and for all.”

Sara Pondered this. What did this woman think she could do that she hadn’t already tried? Besides, what was the point? Hadn’t she just described to them that the Town was already destroyed? She’d already failed.

“I need to find my brother. That is more important. To me. I’m sorry. I have to find him. But I will think more about this,” Sara sighed as she turned away, thinking.

Emily and Peter were staring at Mrs. Richardson.

“Mrs. Richardson, how can we help? I mean, you and I are good in a scrape, but leading a whole revolution of a town mere miles from Thunderclap?” Emily questioned.

“I admire your courage Mrs. Richardson,” Peter said. “I only wish I could help you with such a noble goal.”

Sara had been in deep thought. “I’ve got it!” She blurted out.

Mrs. Richardson didn’t reply to the other two, instead focusing on Sara. “What is it?”

“Victor never tried to fight, But he can! I know it! So can I. If we find him, it’ll add a powerful force to help attack and free Wishwell. And who knows, Maybe we’ll find others along the way!” Sara paused. “If he is willing, that is. I am certain he will be, though.”

Peter and Emily looked back at Mrs. Richardson, who nodded approvingly.  This prompted Peter to ask, “Alright, Sara. Do you know where your brother is?”

Sara sighed, crestfallen. “Nope. Not at All.”

Emily stepped forward and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Then here’s the plan: I and one other go into town. We see if we can find out what happened to your brother. We strong arm the Mayor himself if we have too. Then, if we save the town in the process, great. But if not, we leave, find your brother, and come back stronger than ever!” she turned around to the others, to see what they thought.

Sara spoke first. “Except, as previously said, there is utter chaos over there, and any normal person visiting wouldn’t walk into that. We would need to wait awhile. I can provide disguises for when we do go in. I’ll check every once and awhile to see if it's over. Then we go on with Emily’s plan.”

Emily nodded. “Just as long as we don’t wait too long. We don’t want to give them the chance to come after you.”

“Yes. Or, if guards from Thunderclap are following you, not to let them catch up.” Sara paused. “If they know me at all, they’d think I’d left. So let’s put a little cover over the fire when we cook, so no smoke rises above the trees.”

It was already getting late into the evening as the foursome settled down to a delicious rabbit stew.

Because Furor found he liked the rabbit-hunting profession.

Thereafter, Sara pointed out the three makeshift tents that her previous guests had used, and went into her own tent for the night. The new guests followed suit shortly after.

Sara didn’t get a lot of sleep that night.

~~~

The next morning, Peter awoke feeling rejuvenated. It took him a moment to remember why he was staring at the inside of a tent, but once he did, he experimented with sitting up.

His body merely grumbled dark threats at him instead of the incessant screaming he’d had the past couple mornings. Various wounds and scabs were healing much better due to Sara’s herbalism the day before. Or maybe it was merely numbing the pain. Either way, he thanked God for it.

Slowly, carefully, he crawled out of the tent, to see his host skinning a deer.  the fire was just beginning to show flame.

“Hi, Peter. We’re having deer today. Deer for breakfast. Deer for lunch. Deer with a side of rabbit for dinner.”

“Sounds wonderful, Sara,” he said genuinely, as he shuffled over and sat on the same stool he had yesterday.

“Thanks. After 15 years, however, you start to wonder how clogged your arteries are.”

Peter blinked, not following the logic. “I guess… Do you have some berries or other fruit-bearing plants around?”

“Hmm… I think so. Lemme ask the guide. Furor? Any fruit in this forest?”

*“No, but I know there’s some inside a little hole I went down yesterday. I’ll go get it.”*  The little fox scampered into the forest.

“Thanks, Furor.” She turned back to Peter. “He’s gonna get some he found in a hole yesterday. Sometimes I wonder if I trust him a little too much…”

“You have to trust someone,” Peter whispered… “Can’t go through life without someone you trust.”

“I trust the bears to keep trying to eat my boots.” Sara sighed.

Peter’s eyes had found the fire, and were now locked in. Suddenly, he spoke.

“How could you have felt pity for him?” Peter asked, monotone.

“Uhh...Because when they eat my boots he’ll have a stomach ache?”

“No, I’m not talking about the bears. I’m talking about Carson.”

Sara’s tone instantly grew serious, as she wasted no time in answering.

“I saw he was living a terrible life and  had been for a while, so, why not help? I was probably gonna… give up, That's what I thought then. And I was just gonna go back home and lie around either joking with Furor or Plotting. Carlson can be happy every once and awhile now. And If I helped, that's enough for me.”

Sara glanced up at Peter, who was staring intensely into the fire.

“Uh, Peter? If you wanna get better, you probably shouldn’t do that. It's not good for your eyes.”

Peter blinked and tore his eyes away from the fire to Sara. “Right. You’re right.” He paused. Then, “I just don’t know how you saw good in him.”

Sara began cooking some raw venison. “I didn’t at first. But I saw wrong in Tain. Not a lot. But definitely some.”

Then she paused, thoughtfully. Peter saw she was searching for the right words, and didn’t interrupt, though a curious eyebrow rose.

“I can tell I have some, too.” She said honestly.

Peter seemed to be reminded of something as well, and bowed his head. “We all do, I suppose.”

Sara nodded.

“What do you mean ‘at first’ ?” Peter asked.

“Well, he certainly was a good cook. And when I let him from the rope, he didn’t go.”

Sara noticed conflicting emotions running all over Peter’s face. Confusion, Anger, Pity. Sorrow.

“I can tell you don’t know what to feel. Why?”

Peter shook his head, and confusion plus sadness won out. “It’s just that… All I’ve seen of Carson is a sick, spiteful, virtue-less, prison guard. I know I shouldn’t hate him like I do, but he’s insulted me, my friends, and my family. He knows the power of his barbed tongue and uses it with all his spite.” Peter grimaced. “It’s hard to think of him as someone you’d want to free.”

“One thing I noticed when I offered to let him loose,” Sara said. “Is he was surprised that someone was trying to help him.” Sara paused for Peter to absorb that.

“You mean, like, he was surprised you cared?”

“Sorta. I’m not trying to make myself all great or something, but, I think he was surprised because he had insulted me. Plenty of times. He was surprised because I wanted to help him after that. I’ve always thought  that was the way to help someone, in a way.”

“I mean, I don’t want to hear the insults he gave you, but I’m surprised you could just let them roll off like water off a duck’s back,” Peter replied.

“One time he called me crazy. I sorta agree with that. I give my opinion, then leave it be. I knew if I continued, he’d insult me more and I’d get all fired up and so on.”

“That shows a lot of discipline.”

“You shoulda seen Carson’s fight with Furor. It was sorta amusing, to be honest.”

Peter chuckled. “I’m certain I would have enjoyed that.”

“Carson said that Furor had a big head. Furor said that his head was apple sized. Then said that the bigger his head was, the bigger his brain was.”

Just then, Emily emerged from her tent. “Hello, Sara. Hello, Peter. Did both of you rest well?”

“Yup. How about you, ‘M’?” Sara said. “P got up right after me. L  hasn’t gotten up yet.”

Emily looked at the final tent belonging to Mrs. Richardson. “Well, that is good. She could use the rest.” She sat down on a stump by the fire. “Can I help with this deer preparation at all?”

“Could you put the hide in that box over there? Watch out for the chicken feathers.”

In no time at all, the three were sitting down to a simple breakfast, along with Furor.

Suddenly, Furor’s ears perked up, and he yapped once urgently at Sara, before turning towards Wishwell. His fur stood on end, and his tail fluffed up.

Sara nodded. “Be on guard.” Sara warned Peter and Emily as she reached for her double bladed dagger.

Furor yipped again, but then his head tilted curiously, and he whined. Turning back to Sara, he barked noncommittally.

Moments later, Mrs. Richardson stumbled into the clearing, dog-tired. . . And fair skinned!

Sara immediately  set down the double bladed dagger, but ready to grab it.

“Mrs. Richardson. Hi.”

“Sandhya…!?” Emily exclaimed.

“Mrs. Richardson?” Peter echoed. “What are you doing up?”

Mrs Richardson plopped down on a stump before looking up at the neutral face that Sara had on. “I know where your brother’s being held.”

Sara’s eyes widened. “Y-You do? Where?! Is he in town?”

“Far northwest of here, in a prisoner camp in the Moorlands, on the edge of Ankoria.” Mrs. Richardson replied, watching Sara’s face carefully.

“The Moorlands Camp? I.. have no clue where that is. But oh! That's awful! He’s not that kind of guy to break out, either... “ Sara’s face was filled with a sincere worry. She clambered into her tent, and came out holding a very old looking picture frame. She gazed at it for a long time.

Peter started to get up, and upon getting assistance from his sister, the three guests all went over to Sara. None of them needed to have her explain the emotions she was having. They’d all been there, in similar ways.

“When do you want to leave, Sara?” was all Mrs. Richardson whispered.

Beside her, Furor looked up at Sara in askance.

“R-right now! But I..know we can’t.” Sara sighed. “It’s all my fault he’s been in Moorland’s Camp for 15 years!” Sara sighed again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t raise my voice. I-I’d just like to be alone for awhile.” At this she  went into her tent, with the picture frame.

Furor poked his head into the tent.

*“Do you want me to snuggle with you, or talk it out?”* he whined.

Sara shook her head at the fox. “No, thank you, though. I...I’d just like to think this over.”

Furor yipped once, and ducked his head back out, sniffing at the leftover scraps of venison on various plates.

Sara’s three guests turned associates all looked at each other. Walking a bit of a ways off, they first discussed Mrs. Richardson’s nighttime adventure at length, then prepared to leave whenever Sara was ready. If she would be ready.

Sara came out half an hour later, accidentally interrupting their conversation.

“Sorry. You guys can... finish.”

“Nothing to finish, Sara. You feeling better?” Peter said, as he finished washing some old bandages.

“It depends on what you mean by better. But, How does everyone feel about leaving Now?”

She received three big smiles of varying positive emotions.

“Without The...Big Metal Horse thing.” she amended. "If I walk, we have enough mounts. Arrow can hold two. Typhoon could hold someone too, but he’s very weak. One person, I think, can fit on him. Who’s shortest!?”

At the mention of leaving the jeep behind, Emily’s smile quirked a bit.  “By ‘big metal horse thing’ you mean the Jeep, right?”

“The what? The thing you almost ran me over with.” Sara gave Emily a jesting glare.

“Yeah, that’s called a Jeep.”

“Huh.”

“And it’s very useful, and faster than your horses. Also far more comfortable, so I’ll be driving that.”

Suddenly, Furor burst into the clearing, yipping in a low and urgent tone at Sara.

“Wait!” Sara whispered. “Furor, quiet. “

Furor slapped his paws down on Sara’s foot and was growling and whining rapidly.

Sara grasped her weapon where it lay on a stump.

“Furor senses something. Don’t move unless you see something.” Sara whispered.

Everyone listened carefully.  Sara heard it too now. Sounds that did not belong to nature. The silence of the birds. Creaks and snaps that were not the natural swaying of the trees. Murmurs that were not the whistling of the wind through the trees.

“Everyone hide! Something approaches.” whispered Sara.

Sara tied the three mounts together, then sent Arrow off into the north of the forest, whispering, “Take them on a tour, boy.” Then she  hid Furor securely in a chest in her tent with a false bottom before scurrying up a tree and blending into the branches. Mrs. Richardson banked the campfire and rushed behind Sara’s Tent. Peter hobbled behind some trees, and Emily followed Sara’s direction and clambered up the tree that Peter was hiding behind, just as they began to hear voices.

Two rouges came into the camp. One was slightly older. Another one was middle-aged. They both had their helmets off, they both had Wormholers, and were talking.

“Deff-nilley a camp, Quentin.” The older one said.

“Yeeee-up. Wonder if some nice ol’ family went campin and we’re intrudin’.”

“Mebbe. But we gotta find em’ Jeeper Theivers, so intrudin’ we be doin’.”

The younger one, Quentin, poked the campfire with his Wormholer. “Looks like they lit outta here pretty fast. Heh, musta scared them off with yer ugly mug, Kent.”

“Ye.” The older one said. “Ol’ Kent b’ scarin’ em’ Jeeper Theivers off.”

“Guess so. Let’s head back and jist get the Jeeper.”

“Ye. I wanner git back t’ base in time fer m’ Star Walk Mathathon on d’ ole’ cable TV t’nigh.”

The two began wandering off

“You and yer Cable. You e’er sleep, Kent?”

“Oh sure, but only when I have the Cable TV on in d’ background, so’s I can watch by osmosis. I git the bestest dreams that way and…”

The two’s voices faded away, but Sara and the others stayed in their spots for a while longer until they  heard the sound of two Jeep’s motors revving up and puttering far, far away.

Finally, she dropped to the forest floor, followed by everyone else much more slowly.

“Allright, we’ll take your horses.” Emily said begrudgingly.

“That went well!” Sara said, Flopping into her tent, taking Furor out of the chest.

One sharp whistle, and a few minutes later had the foursome all packed up and with their two mounts.

Mrs. Richardson and Emily shared Arrow, while Peter rode Typhoon most gingerly. Sara walked.

And with no great fanfare or pomp, they strode through the forest, heading north by northwest.