For Witheric’s sake, they kept a lighter pace for the rest of the daylight hours, and when the first signs of twilight colored the sky, they cautiously slipped out of the trees and into the grasslands. They approached the river at an angle so as to make progress even as they covered the mile between the forest and the river, and by the time they reached the waterfront, Dir hung high overhead, shining her influence over the land. Sharp shadows lay everywhere, and the river and knee-high grass looked edged with silver. The ground was smoother here, without tree roots, sticks, and bushes underfoot, and the walking was easier. A few hours and some miles later, they found a bank hidden by one of the occasional rises in the land and decided to settle there for the night, where no one could see them from their side of the river.

As Restag refilled their water skins, Witheric gingerly dipped his feet into the water, flinching and then shivering as the icy water ran around his ankles. Restag said, “More blisters?”

“One or two,” said Witheric between chattering teeth. “Having shoes too big for your feet does not help. But at least my toes aren’t freezing.”

“I apologize,” said Restag. “If I had noticed they hadn’t taken your boots, I would have grabbed them. I would offer you mine, but….”

Witheric chuckled. “I could fit my whole body into those giant’s shoes of yours. Then you would have to carry me, and how would we get anywhere with that weight on your shoulders? No. I shall walk another day.”

And another, and another, and Dar knew how many till they reached Ithaenia, or more specifically Thenika, the Seat City of King Aleukus. Perhaps they could convince Roth to lend them some of his seven league boots or to guide them on a fairy way, not that they had anything to use to bargain with the nomadic god.

As Witheric wrapped his cold, wet feet in the edge of his cloak to dry them, Restag said, “I’m sorry I forgot the bandages. If you do need me to carry you, I shall be willing.”

The thane gave him a side-eyed look. “I am not clay-footed, Restag. I can walk.”

Restag’s face shifted just slightly to show his surprise. He turned away, watching the river’s slow movement for a spell before saying, “Forgive me, my thane. I was thinking of other things and said too much.”

That was odd, thought Witheric. Restag rarely apologized for anything he said. In fact, he had been unusually apologetic in general the last few days. Witheric watched his friend, the man’s face impassive. Restag was not a man prone to joviality and rarely showed strong emotion unless angered or especially disturbed. However, he was honest. He might not smile or laugh much or openly, but Witheric could usually tell when his friend was happy. Same with sorrow. Like most Asgradi men, he was not one to weep in the presence of others, but there was usually an air about him and a way his brow creased and eyes shone that spoke his feelings. Now, he felt closed off. His true feelings locked away for reasons unknown.

Was he worried? Afraid? Or… perhaps he was grieving? Mourning the loss of his home and his family and his friends and his life. Perhaps it was because this was the undercurrent of Witheric’s thoughts and feelings, which came and went throughout the day and tinged everything with a sting of sorrow, but it felt right. And it hurt. He felt that pain up until he fell asleep, curled up in his cloak and listening to the flow of water washing away his thoughts.

A strange sound woke Witheric that night. Strange, but ethereally beautiful. Like what moonlight or hoarfrost might sound like if it had a voice. He turned over. No. Not hoarfrost. It was too warm, though it still held that tinge of sadness that brought to mind the ice crystals climbing across his window in mid-winter, like a thousand, tiny birds frozen mid-flight. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The moon still stood high in the night sky, and his breath made silver clouds as he listened to the strange sound, which he finally recognized as singing. Turning to where he knew his friend had lain down, Witheric said, “Do you hear that?”

But Restag was gone. Witheric scrambled to his feet, eyes searching, and almost at once saw his friend walking upriver. Hastily grabbing the travel bag and shield his friend had left, he raced after him, calling, “Restag! Where are you– that’s not the right–Restag!”

However, Restag did not respond, and when Witheric caught up to him, he felt his blood chill as he stared into the dazed eyes of his friend. Then Restag turned toward the river, and Witheric saw that the place where they now stood sloped gently down so that the river lapped rhythmically over the rocky bank. All the while, the song continued, ringing through the night to the rhythm of the water. Dropping his luggage, Witheric grabbed at Restag as the larger man steadily approached the river.

“Stop, Restag! Stop! You can’t–you’ll freeze! Restag!”

Witheric pulled back and dug his heels into the grass. It did little good. Restag was a shield-man, large and strong, and Witheric did not have the raw power to hold him back, even without the enchantment drawing them closer and closer to the water’s edge. As they left the grass for the pebbled bank, the small rocks slipped under Witheric’s feet, causing him to trip more than once, but he held on even as Restag’s boots began slowly parting the water. Deeper and deeper he went. His ankles disappeared, and then his knees, then his waist, Witheric gasping as the icy water forced the air from his lungs.

Once more, he tried to call his friend out of the spell, but his voice was weak and broken from his chattering teeth and the cold pressing against his lungs. The thanesman continued onward, the river now reaching his chest and, soon, Witheric’s chin. It was then that Witheric saw it, the glowing eyes watching them just above the water’s surface, rising just a little more to reveal the smiling face of the water sprite, her long hair hanging wet against her head as her song passed through her bloodless blue lips and pike-like teeth. Restag finally stopped, his gaze unfocused and body rigid. Meanwhile, the sprite began approaching, her song turning playful as she reached out her webbed hands. Stiffly, Restag followed suit, reaching out to her as if to a lover.