"I think we're getting close." Tristan was beside me, map in hand. She'd figured out that if she only used the laces from Uralt's boot, the map still showed us the way to that spot we'd seen in his office.

"How far?"

"Ten miles or so."

I nodded and quickened my pace.

After our fight with Uralt, we'd gone to Grath's house to check on the Templars. We remembered the man had a wife and baby. We had to save them.

Unfortunately, outside of the furniture one would expect a villager to have, Grath's house was empty. Completely. There wasn't even any indication that they'd ever been there. All we found was a crate of empty vials, each of which had only a few drops of a variety of colored liquids at the bottom. That, and a letter.

I pulled the stained paper out again. Scanning the page for the tenth time, I took in the neat, if unsteady, script:

Farvad's Alchemical Emporium

157 Bismuth Street, Galden

The Kingdom of Istaera

Dear Esteemed Customer,

Salutations from Galden. I wish you well. Today, I regret to inform you that the latest shipment of the potions you requested will be delayed. Regretably, I have struggled with a distemper of some kind for some time. As such, in an effort to heal, I have slowed my work considerably.

Despite your group's considerable wealth, formidable power, and aggressive motivational tactics, I am afraid I cannot create the product any faster than I have been. In fact, I anticipate further delays in the future. I simply do not have the mental faculties to keep working at the pace that I have.

As a token of goodwill, I've included a number of potions from my personal collection that I believe will be of interest to you. While not the rather peculiar formulation you have been consistently requesting these past two years, I believe the included potions of dimunition, potions of growth, and potions of change shape will be adequate replacements. If not, that is a problem for you, not me.

Until such a time as I feel well enough to continue my work in full, I will be discontinuing working with volatile compounds like those you've had me working with.

Sincerely,

Farvad Fiddlebender IV

P.S. Please tell the Slasher and her goons to stop breaking all of my expensive vials. Likewise, for my windows and walls. Hardly a week goes by without some new harassment. Not only do her interruptions slow my work further, but I must also spend time making lesser products to sell at market to recoup the replacement costs. Thus, her continued harassment is neither necessary nor productive. I will continue my work when I am able, with or without her presence.

F. F. IV

When placed on the map, the letter had created a line that circled Galden, but the vials all created faint lines that ended halfway between Goodfield and Galden. Right where the hills turned into small mountains. And right where Ulrich's boot had pointed, too.

"Let's move faster." I tried to push myself harder, but I was tired. Once again, we were marching through the night and missing sleep.

"If we go any faster, we'll be too tired for whatever we find."

"I don't care. We can't lose anyone else." I wouldn't allow it. I'd save everyone.

She lengthened her strides next to me, trying to match my pace. "Hey..." Tristan's voice was soft. Uncertain. She rolled up the map and tucked it in her pack.

I felt anger flare up in me, but I pushed it down. "What are you doing? We need that."

She shook her head. "This trail is the only one out here, and it leads to the spot. I don't need it now."

"We shouldn't take the risk." What if we missed it? What if we were too slow? What if they were already...

"Alex." She grabbed my hand and slowed me down. "We need to talk."

I really, really didn't want to talk right now, but that wasn't her fault. I slowed, but I didn't turn toward her. "Yeah? About what?"

"Um..." I could see her struggling out of the corner of my eye. "Are you okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I answered, "Not really. No. Our friends got captured by some freaks who'll do Goddess knows what to them if we don't get there fast. I'm not okay at all, and I won't be until we save them."

She was looking at me. "Who was she?"

"Who?"

"The girl. Back in Goodfield. The one Uralt turned into."

I really, didn't want to talk about that. But, after all we'd been through, and after all the support she'd tirelessly given me over the past year and a half, it felt wrong not to give her that information. She deserved to know. "She was my sister."

Tristan missed a step. "You've mentioned her before. A few times. Back at the temple."

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Ever since that happened, you've been off."

"Yeah."

"You loved her very much, didn't you?"

That struck a chord in my heart. "She was the most important person in the world to me."

She cleared her throat. "Past tense?"

A wave of guilt hit me. "Yeah."

"I don't want to be insensitive, and please tell me if you don't want to talk about it. That being said, what happened?"

"Um..."

She reached out and squeezed my hand. "No pressure."

"No." I shook my head. "It's okay." I paused for a long minute to think about what I wanted to say. White hot rage burned through me, but I tamped it down. If I didn't shape the words now, I'd end up saying what I actually felt. "Our parents... weren't good parents. They were shit, really. Absolute bastards. All they were good for was food, water, and shelter, and they barely gave us that."

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"I remember you said that before. Was it always bad?"

I thought back to my childhood. There, far, far in the past, I could feel a drop of fondness in what felt like an endless sea of resentment. "No. When I was little, I think they were happy. I have a few good memories from back then. Dad would take me camping. Mom and I watched movies. I can still smell the popcorn." I couldn't help but smile. Those were good memories.

"What changed?"

"As time went on, things got harder. The economy got worse. Mom started drinking again, and I think that pushed Dad away. Or maybe Dad's wandering eyes pushed her over the edge. I don't know what came first. Maybe it was both? Who knows. All I know is, when I was eight, they tried to get their shit together. Things were good for a bit. Then, when I was nine, they had an oopsie. Nine months later, they had a baby. That was my sister, Stella."

"Such a pretty name."

"It fit her perfectly." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "To me, she shone as brightly as the North Star. That was her favorite. When she was born, Dad told me it was my job as the big brother to protect her, so that's what I did. As she grew up, we did everything together. We were inseparable. When she got older, whenever my folks would fight, I'd pick her up on my shoulders, and we'd head out to the woods until nighttime. I started calling those our quests. I'd pretend I was her knight and that she was a princess. She loved that."

I could see that Tristan was smiling at my story. "You were a good brother."

"Not good enough."

"Why do you say that?"

I sighed. "As we got older, I got angrier. More distant. I got a job, and that kept me out of the house. Then, when I went to college, I tried to push it all behind me. My parents started fighting more, and Stella couldn't come to me, not when I was hundreds of miles away." I took a deep, shaky breath. "Apparently, our folks had been fighting pretty bad. When Stella had had enough, she started running away. She'd always come back, but every time she left, it was for longer and longer. We hardly talked. I wasn't there to protect her, so she learned to do it herself." I didn't want to talk about the next part.

"What happened?"

"She called me one day. Told me she remembered our old adventures. Said she wanted to go on a quest again. She asked if I'd come home that weekend to go on one with her, but I told her I was too busy. I wasn't. I just didn't want to go home that weekend. That Saturday, Mom called me drunk out of her mind. Said Stella didn't come home again. I told her not to worry, but something felt off. Even when she ran away, she always called or texted me."

Tristan nodded.

"When she didn't come home for a week, they sent out search parties. They found her a few days later. Turns out, she slipped on a rock down at Roaring River and busted her head open. She died in one of our favorite spots, alone. All because I didn't come home."

Her throat caught. "Alex..."

"After that, I cut contact with my folks. Struggled through the semester, then another. The next year, I met a girl who kind of looked like a grown-up Stella if you squinted. We became friends. Talked all the time. She opened up, said her boyfriend was abusive. I told her I'd protect her. Then, one night, she showed up at my apartment, but her boyfriend followed her. He accused her of cheating with me. When he laid his hands on her, I beat his face in. Then, I broke everything else. Got sent to jail. Got kicked out of college. That's how I ended up with the life I had before I got sent here." I ran a hand through my hair. "Uralt turning into my sister... That was like having my heart ripped out all over again. Because, for a moment, it was her. It was really her."

She grabbed my hand. "Alex, I'm so sorry."

I looked at her and smiled. "Don't be. You didn't do it. I did. I wasn't there."

We walked in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, Tristan said, "Don't do that."

I looked at her. "Do what?"

"Blame yourself." Her voice was firm. "You're always so hard on yourself."

"Hardly. I'm dumb. I don't remember anything. I sleep in every day while everyone else works hard. I've been milking the Temple's charity for months and only jumped onto this quest because it sounded like fun. I'm kind of good with a sword, and that's about it. I'm a sack of shit."

"Bullshit. You act like a big goofball, like you float through life without a care. Like all you want to do is have fun and screw around. But that's not true, is it? That's not really you." She pulled me to a stop. Her eyes were glowing in the moonlight. "The truth is that you're always trying to be there for everyone. You work yourself to the bone, push yourself past your limits, and constantly think about how you can help people. You never make a big deal about it, but we all see it. You're hardworking, dedicated, and responsible, and you do it all without being a giant stick in the mud. I..." She looked down at her hands and blushed. "I love those things about you. I love them so much. You inspire me."

"I do?"

"Yes!" She stepped close. "I was miserable before we met. I didn't care about anything. I'd given up and never tried. I just floated, hoping that someday, something would come and sweep me away and make my life worth something. But I never made it happen. I just sat in my routine, angry at the world for the life I was forced to live. Then, you showed up. You were broken and in so much pain, but you were so full of life. You wanted to know everything, and you kicked down my walls without hesitation or a second thought. You've inspired me since the first day we talked. Hell, since the first day I found you. Not just anyone could have survived what you did. You're amazing."

"You're just seeing what you want to see." I couldn't help but look away. I didn't want to meet her eyes anymore.

"No, I'm not. You're just so blinded by your own self-pity that you can't see me." She grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her. "You can't carry everyone else's burdens forever. And you can't live with guilt for things you didn't do. You can't live that way. No one can."

"I can. I have to. It's the only way I'll ever make up for it. If I don't, then she died in vain."

She put her hands on my chest. "There's nothing to make up. Your parents were shit, but that isn't your fault. Neither is it your fault they fought. And your sister didn't die because of you. She died because accidents happen. That's the way of the world. And it's sad, and it's tragic, and it's heartbreaking and unfair and all the things. But that's all. There's no one to blame, and there's nothing to make amends for. You are a good man. I see it. Everyone sees it. And I know your sister sees it too, and I'm sure she wouldn't hesitate to tell you the same thing if she were here."

As I stood there, listening to her words, and all the guilt and grief I felt, all the self-hatred and regret, it all bubbled up, filling my chest until I couldn't breathe. "But..."

"But nothing, Alex. You were an amazing, loving brother, and you did the best you could with the life you were given. It's not your fault."

It wasn't my fault.

It wasn't like I hadn't heard that before. Hadn't told myself it a thousand times. But this time, coming from this person... it hit different. All at once, it popped, and the feelings vanished. Just like that. A lifetime of weight lifted off my chest in a heartbeat.

She'd kill me if she knew I blamed myself all this time. She'd be so, so mad at me if she knew I felt sorry for myself instead of learning to move on. She'd never forgive me if she knew I pushed my memories of her away any time they fluttered into my mind.

Why had I done this to myself?

Why had I felt guilt instead of joy at her memory? Why hadn't I held her in a special place in my heart? Wouldn't that have honored her memory better? Pushing thoughts of her away certainly wasn't honoring her... No. I'd just been running away. And knights didn't run away. They faced their challenges head-on.

"I feel... Good."

Tristan stepped into me. Her arms wrapped around my body, and she rested her head on my chest. "I think I can finally feel them."

"What?"

"Your roots."

"What does that mean?"

She looked up at me and smiled. "I don't know, exactly. But, I can feel them."

I looked down at her, and my heart leapt. This moment wouldn't ever leave my heart. Just all the times I spent with Stella. "Thank you."

Tristan squeezed me tighter. "I'm here for you. You don't have to stand on your own. We can do this together, you know?"

I buried my face in her scalp. She smelled good. "I think I do."

"Good."

Something lingered in my heart, though. Something that felt true. True to me. "There's one thing that I don't think is wrong."

"What's that?"

"I still want to protect everyone."

She smiled. "I know. And I wouldn't ever want that to change. I just don't want it to weigh you down. Do it because you want to. Do it because that's who you are. Don't do it because you'd feel guilty if you didn't." She tilted her face up. "Besides, protecting someone takes many forms. Sure, sometimes it means being there to stop bad guys. And sometimes it's about carrying your loved ones to safety. Other times, it's beating up an asshole. But, sometimes, it can simply be being a shoulder to lean on. Or being a good friend. Or saying a kind word at the right time. And, it should never be something you should feel pressured to do. Just be you. Let it happen naturally."

I took in a deep, slow breath. I could see Stella's face in my mind. It was clear for the first time in so long. And I didn't push the memory of her away. "Then that's what I'll do."

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