I

"Children, can you keep it down? Everyone are still asleep."

Isidro shoved the long stick he carried in the ground. "Well, they should wake up, especially Guts."

"Leave him alone." chirped Schierke from her spot under the tree, and began making her way towards them, a bunch of smooth stones in her hands. Isidro dreaded the incoming lecture from the girl, but it never came. "Yesterday… you know how it went."

The redheaded boy looked away, images of yesterday's battle with an exceptionally powerful Apostle still fresh in his mind. If he focused a little, even, he could smell the blood on his clothes. They were washed and dry now, but that metallic scent was in the air, it was everywhere, on his hands, on all of his companions.

Especially Guts.

Isidro, being himself, would have boasted about the slashes and the hits he landed on the monsters who attacked them, but today, in his mind, he wondered when the scent of blood stopped curling his toes and sending shivers through his spine. He wondered when it became familiar to the point where he could hardly smell it.

The boy exchanged knowing glances with the two others, and Schierke was the first to avert her gaze. Serpico, on the other hand, sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. The boy looked up to the man's smiling face. "Let's go get some water, Schierke will take care of them." Serpico said. "When we come back all of them will be awake. Besides, Isma is already at the river, you can carry the fish for her."

Isidro's face lighted up at the mention of the girl, and he nodded. "Alright let's go."

II.

Schierke sat atop the elder spiraling tree that shielded them all night, and observed the scenery from her height. The morning was dewy and beautiful, and for a moment she could pretend that she's back at her Master's house in the forest, back to the warmth and comfort of her old life, but she knew it was only unhealthy longing tugging at her heart. There was nothing to go back to, her world was down there, under this tree, in all the sleeping forms of her companions.

They were her world now.

Schierke's eyes remained fixed on the horizon, on that jagged line beyond the mountains, where the sun crept up higher and higher, and she knew it will be a beautiful day. A peaceful day. After yesterday, she was certain all of them wanted nothing more than to eat in peace and snuggle around the fire and take long hours of sleep.

Guts, especially.

It was unlike him to remain asleep for such a long time. He was usually one of the firsts to be awake. He wouldn't sleep. He didn't sleep. Thinking of his pain twisted her heart.

"It's alright, Schierke."

The little girl snapped out of her thoughts and opened the leather pouch at her waist. "Evarella? I thought you were asleep."

The pinkish fairy scowled at her. "Well, I was, but your heart beat is disturbing me."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Never mind." Evarella flitted out of the pouch and flew to Schierke's hat, settling down on her favorite spot up there. "Seems like it's going to be a beautiful day, no?"

Schierke smiled. "I was thinking the exact same thing!"

"I sure hope it goes well." Evarella said, popping her head in front of Schierke's eyes. "With these guys by your side, you never know."

"Are you complaining?"

"Oh please, I know you're thinking it too, you and I are of the same mind."

Schierke averted her gaze. "Well, I don't whine about it."

"Of course you don't, and that's precisely your problem."

The little witch groaned. "Just go back to sleep, it's too early for these thoughts."

Evarella shrugged her tiny shoulders, and pushed herself back atop the hat. "You can't escape it forever, just saying."

"I know."

III.

"-And you see, Serpie, I taught this boy the sick move you saw yesterday."

"I'm sure you did." Serpico replied to the fairy floating by his side, but ignored the little guy's elaborate explanation for the history of the 'sick move' when he saw that both Farnese and Casca were awake.

The two women stood side by side, saying something to each other. It was still odd hearing Casca's voice, but it wasn't an unpleasant one, neither was its owner. The healed woman was silent for the majority of the time, only exchanging conversations with Farnese and the kids, occasionally speaking with him, and rarely if ever spoke with Guts.

Something was broken there, but Serpico didn't know what, exactly. However, he could sense it. Being one himself, he could see damaged things.

Guts was still asleep.

IV.

"You've become pretty good at flaying fish, Farnese!"

Farnese smiled at the blue haired girl at her side. "You think so?"

Isma nodded. "Yep! Remember when you first tried?" and she broke out in laughter. Farnese didn't find it in her to be offended at the girl, so she chuckled.

Farnese turned to the woman at her side. "Want to try, too, Casca?"

Casca seemed startled for a moment, sitting next to them in silence, her knees drawn to her chest. When she regained her senses, she shook her head. "No,"

Farnese followed the pair of dark brown eyes to where they traveled, and saw what the other woman wanted. "You can always ask Serpico, he wouldn't mind."

Casca looked to the ground. "I don't have a weapon of my own."

Farnese could almost see that swallow complexion return to her companion's face, so she quickly set down the knife and wiped her hands. "Come on, we'll go together." and she took Casca's hand in hers, helping her up to her feet. She turned around to Isma. "You can take care of breakfast for us, right?"

Isma ran a daft knife through a fish, making a perfect horizontal cut. "Yeah sure!"

V.

Casca could sense him looking, she could feel him there sitting on the rock by the river, watching them train. He was at the margins of their little group but his presence was exceptionally heavy. Heavier than anyone else, and while her senses were not as sharp as before, she knew that he smelled differently.

Something rotten was under his skin, and it revolted her.

However, it seemed that no one else sensed it. Perhaps it wasn't the scent, after all, perhaps it was something different. Something only she can sense. Something only she can see, but she hardly looked anymore, only glanced. Many things about him now interested her, yet at the same time she found no desire within herself to approach him.

He had nothing to give her anymore.

Casca willed his overbearing shadow out of her thoughts and focused on the tip of the sword she was holding. It was a spare, well-crafted, respectable sword, but it wasn't hers. She loathed it, and she hated that everyone else had weapons on them, weapons that were special, and strong, and close to their owners' hearts. She desired one of her own; she longed for her sword, for the hilt of it, for the familiar, assuring weight of it in her hand. She missed how it gleamed under the sun, missed the courage and confidence it planted in her, and most of all, she missed how it was hers.

It seemed that entire decades had passed since she swung a sword, but that didn't stop her from lunging at Serpico with full force, and it didn't stop her from enjoying herself when she made swift dive to avoid the tip of his rapier.

"Awesome Casca!" Isidro shouted from the sidelines, watching the match with such intensity that he was mouthing off every move made by the two opponents to Isma and Farnese at his side. He was commenting on it under his breath, and Casca enjoyed the boy's verve.

Serpico drew back, and offered her a smile followed by a courteous bow. Casca found the gesture ridiculous, but she returned it with a nod, and found herself standing a little bit taller, her shoulders a little wider, the sword in her hand lighter than when she first picked it up.

She could already feel the difference. The thrill. The knowledge that you are a self, separate from others. The realization that she had lost but that she can gain, once more.

In the moment she caught Farnese's gaze, she knew the blonde woman was exchanging looks with Guts. When Farnese smiled brightly at her, Casca looked away.

He should have remained asleep.