Chapter 2: A Stitch in Time Saves Nine

A Chapter by Roselynne

"Helen," Francine says weakly, managing to pull herself closer to the other girl. "Helen wake up." When that doesn't work, she musters up as much energy as she can, checking her pulse. "Thank the gods. Okay Helen, no more sleeping on the job."

As, by the burnt camp, Troy wakes, so does Helen. Her eyes wrench open, the air around her rustling leaves on the ground. Once she gets her bearings-helped by Francine's fervent praying-she sits up. "Francine, you can stop that now. I am alright."

"Helen," Francine starts, able to stand up. "You had me worried there. I'd be in so much trouble if I let you die. When my parents found out, they would have skinned me alive, tied me to a spit, and hung me over the fire until my blood scabbed up so they could peel that off and start all over again-"

"Francine-" Helen tries to cut her off.

"Which would be awfully bad. But now you woke up, which means I'm actually your savior-"

"Francine-" she says, louder this time.

"So, rather than me being worried right now I should be accepting your gratitude. You're welcome by the way."

Finally sensing a lull in Francine's speech, Helen speaks up. "Francine, please be quiet. We must get back to camp with the water, and I don't think we can do that with your incessant chattering. Remain silent until we make it back."

Behind her back, Francine glares at her as she collects more water from the river. They walk back in silence, Helen focusing on keeping the water afloat, admittedly having to lean on Francine a bit.

"We already up out the fire, Thomas." Elliot says to the boy for the third time. Troy has not said anything else, continuously staring at Analise, making her a bit uncomfortable.

"Troy, your sister is approaching," she says, pointing towards the line of trees. Francine and Helen are slowly walking out of the forest, Helen still manipulating the water in front of her. The boy stands, walking towards them. Analise takes this opportunity to talk to Elliot. "Why doesn't he like me?"

Elliot blinks, ignoring Thomas for the moment. "Why do you think that?"

"Well he does become quite mute whenever I am around. And, I can sense his mind. Its shielded, so I only get broad, raw emotions, but none are pleasant."

She grows embarrassed as Elliot laughs. "You know how priests-in-training are; they're not allowed contact with anyone of the opposite sex not related by blood. He's probably just nervous to see such a pretty girl."

Not taking his comment to heart, she grows more confused. "Then what about Francine?"

"What about her? She's not exactly pretty-" Analise's stern look cuts him off, making him rethink his next statement. "Fine. She's not as," he pauses, motioning within his hands, "feminine as you are."

"If he's never interacted with women before, then wouldn't the differences among us interest him?"

Elliot opens his mouth before closing it with a shake of his head. "You'll understand when you're older, kid," he says with a smirk before ruffling her hair.

Helen nods at her brother in greeting. "Francine, leave us." She then turns to her brother, hey eyes sharp. "Are you prepared?"

Troy shakes his head; "Should we even bother? We'd be better off heading back to the castle at this point, all of our supplies are gone."

"You are willing to give up already? Brother, I thought better of you. Very well, you may return; I will continue until I find the goddess."

"That's not what I meant, Helen. How do you suppose we proceed?" Troy uncrosses his arms, gesturing towards the camp. "Again, the supplies are destroyed. Completely."

"We will find more supplies."

"Where?"

Helen sighs. "We can hunt for food, distill water, and find shelter. We mustn't leave just because of your destructive tendencies."

Troy takes a step back. "It wasn't my fault, you must know that. There was a shock wave-"

"Do not blame the Prince for your own shortcomings. You were incapable of controlling your fire. Maybe it would be better if you did turn tail. Run away, like the coward you are." His sister's words sting, and he turns around, walking past the charred camp. Francine breaks off from Analise and Elliot, opting instead to ask Helen about what happened.

Eventually, the five remaining members regroup. Francine is sent to gather as much food as possible from nearby bushes, while Elliot and Helen go down to the river to distill water. Thomas and Analise build another camp, this one out of tree branches and leaves. This time, however, Thomas is the one to set up the wards, and he uses a more meticulous scheme, opting out of the ones activated by something as dangerous as fire.

Though their shelter was small, everyone slept soundly due to the previous day's excitement. So soundly, in fact, that when rays of sun flitter through the leaves, even Helen is reluctant to wake. However, she knows that they must keep moving and takes it upon herself to wake everyone else. Her first victim is Elliot, as the Prince must understand the importance of continuing their journey.

"Please, my Prince, you must wake up. We must keep moving." She gently shakes him. He doesn't budge. "Fine. Two can play that game." Helen covers his mouth and nose with her hand, forcing him to wake up.

He bolts up, slamming his forehead into Helen, who brings a hand up to touch the injury. When she looks at her fingers, they are speckled in blood. "Helen, gods, you shouldn't have scared me like that." Placing a hand over the cut on her forehead, Elliot uses his magic to heal her. "There." He stretches out a bit. "What time is it?"

"The sun has been up for almost an hour now."

Elliot swears, turning towards the other three members of their group. "Alright," he starts in a powerful voice, "You have until the count of three to be on your feet." Analise and Thomas open their eyes, having been startled awake. "One." Analise stands, catching on. Thomas, however, gives Elliot a blank look. "Two." Finally understanding, he stands as well. "Three."

Thomas nudges Francine, but she doesn't move. "Is she still alive? Why won't she wake up?"

Helen sighs. "You know, at least this way she is quiet."

"We'll just let her sleep until breakfast, I guess. Analise, would you join me in finding something to eat?"

Francine doesn't wake until they have their camp packed up; after they ate breakfast without her. "I can't believe you guys all let me sleep. I'm the one who is supposed to protect you but instead you didn't let me do my job." She stops walking, briefly falling behind the rest of the group. "You won't kick me out, right? 'Cause I'm still good at what I do. Trust me-I learnt my lesson It won't happen again."

Francine continues talking, though everyone else tunes her out. "Does she really think she could actually protect anyone?" Elliot asks, stretching his hands behind his head as they walk.

"She asked me to call her my savior," Helen says, shaking her head. Usually she wouldn't get involved in something so trivial, but Francine was even getting on her nerves.

"There must be a reason why she is so-" Analise breaks off, not sure how to finish her sentence.

"Annoying?" The Prince asks with a laugh.

"Mean?" Thomas adds quietly.

"Undignified?" Helen finishes.

Analise sighs. "All of you are cruel, projecting yourselves into your view of her like that." She ends the conversation there, walking ahead of the group.

Miles away, Troy becomes disorientated, not sure which way is home. He doesn't remember this intersection and is almost certain he took a wrong turn earlier. Dropping his head in defeat, he pulls out a small bag from his pocket. He pulls the strings that bind it apart, taking the dagger named Serilea out carefully.

Both he and his sister are being taught in the ways of the gods, which involves choosing an element to focus studies on. Troy chose fire, Helen, air. Each element has a sacred weapon; earth is represented by a staff, for example, water by a scythe. He had received a battle ax that he named Trent, while his sister had received Serilea. At first, the priests and priestesses offered her a sword, but she refused. She felt that her spirit would be best represented by something small and quick, useful in close combat; a dagger would be better.

On their sixteenth birthday-three years after receiving their weapons-Helen and Troy took part in a ritual meant to bind their souls to each other. Common between both spouses and combat partners alike, the twins had always known they were meant to be connected. They exchanged their symbolic weapons and kept them on their person at all times.

Troy could not understand, however, why Helen had cast him out of their group. As a matter of fact, he had a small, nagging feeling that something was off with all of them. He almost drops Serilea when he realizes what he has missed. Their bond.

Any magic casted on them would not affect their bond the same way. He places Serilea back in her wrapping, getting in a proper position to meditate. He closes his eyes, delving deep into his mind. A radiant beam near the back of his mind shows him where they are connected, and he follows the light into Helen's mind, observing her emotions.

He opens his eyes, astonished, after a few minutes of searching. The part of Helen connected to him was sealed off completely. He ponders this before remembering the last time he actually felt something from her; before the shock wave. "Of course," he mutters aloud to himself, standing up quickly. He must find them and warn them about the spell; who knows how long it takes for permanent damage to occur?

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