Chapter III:

                                         Alistair held onto me tightly as we said goodbye.

 The camp was almost out of sight until Mica ran up.

 "I'm coming,"

 "What?"

 "I am coming. You'll need me, I know for a fact."

 "Oh, we only have two-"

 "I brought my own things."

 "How old are you?"

 "I'm sixteen,"

 I looked at Alistair who smiled. "Let her come, it'll be fine."

 "Alright, but you can fight?"

 "Of course."

 

 Our camp was set up. We had made it four miles before I nearly fell completely asleep.

 "Goodnight," Mica called.

 "Goodnight,"

 I sat alone, drinking some tea before going into bed.

 "Is that tea good?"

 Alistair sat next to me.

 I smiled. "Am I her?"

 "Yes, always have been."

 I laughed. "Alex would be making fun of us right now."

 "Of course. But he's not here."

 Alistair took my cup and sat it down.

 He brushed my long black hair away from my face.

 

        I was up early. But Mica was already finished with packing her tent and dressed.

 "Hey, Mica."

 "Well, hi," She looked at me with a disapproving look. "I thought you'd never wake up."

 "Oh, hush." I said.

 "I was just about to go catch something...but I see that there's no need."

 I had taken out some bread and chicken that Mica's mother had given us. 

 "My mother's cooking..."

 "Mica, if you want to go back, you can."

 "No."

 "Why not?"

 "Well, it's...it's just that, she's not my real mother. I call her that because she found me when I was very, very young. I was only a month old. They took me in, raised me as one of them, but I'm not. But I have these gypsy qualities." She picked at the chicken.

 "Oh," I remembered that feeling. My mom and dad had died when Alex and I were only ten. "It's like you're alone. Even though you aren't."

 "Exactly."

 "Help me pack up everything?"

 "Sure,"

 "Where's Al?"

 "He'll be back, he went on a walk."

 After we packed everything up, Al showed up with a big grin.

 "There's a town a few miles up. They have horses and things-it's like our town." 

 

 "Aye! It's our boy Alistair." Some boys our age that I recognized from school when we were younger were standing outside a Blacksmith's. 

 "And look at that!" Troy, a tall, built boy clicked his tongue. "It's that pretty little thing Liza."

 "Eliza." Mica corrected.

 "And who's this?" Troy laughed.

 "Geez, Troy, lay off." Troy's younger brother, Tyler, punched him. Tyler was seventeen, he was a cute kid, a lot like Troy, but with a heart. "Sorry,"

 Mica blushed. "It's nothing," She smiled. "I'm Mica."

 "Tyler, and this is Troy."

 "Enough with names," Troy sighed. "How've ya been?"

 "Well, that's our thing." Alistair told them what was going on.

 "Well, hey, Tyler here could help. He's always complaining he's bored."

 "Shut up, Troy." Tyler mumbled.

 "No, no really! I see you out back testing the swords-you're good."

 Tyler shrugged, a look of pride on his face.

 "We need to find Alex,"

 "Alex? Your brother?" Tyler asked. "He's somewhere around here..."

 "No way." I looked around.

 "RIOT!" Someone yelled.

 We all headed toward a shabby side of town.

 "ALEX!" I yelled. There was Alex, in the middle of a fight.

 "Eliza?" 

 Boom. He was punched in the face.

 I pushed my way through the crowd. 

 "Alex," My brother. Of course the first thing he'd be doing when I see him again is fighting. 

 People gasped. I didn't understand why.

 "ELIZA!" I was knocked to the side by someone.

 Bang. 

 

 "Alex." I sat at his side in the quiet tavern. 

 He didn't speak. He didn't move. He didn't do anything.

 "I love you." I kissed his head, and they took him away.

 I didn't cry. I had lived for a year thinking he was dead, this feeling of loss wasn't new.

 "You okay?"

 "Kind of." I sat at a table with Tyler, Troy, Mica, and Al.

 "Should we go back home?"

 "No! You remember that man. He got killed. I need to continue on. For Alex. I'll finish Alex's journey."

 "Really?"

 "Yes. Tyler, are you going to come?"

 "I wouldn't miss it."

 "Then let's go."

 "Hey! Not without some horses, okay? Horses are quicker than foot." Troy shrugged. "I don't need 'em anyway."