The Arisen agreed that a trip to the healing spring to the northwest of the city would be useful, so the following morning they set out after a hearty breakfast. The sun was rising, painting the sky magenta with streaks of yellow. Out here on the roads, away from the hustle and bustle of Gran Soren, with naught but the breeze and the flutter of birds, Ozias could flex and roam again. As long as he was traveling with his master, he had no qualms.

They passed among the toppled stones not far from the city walls, and he looked over his shoulder. Nothing was out of the ordinary. 'Twas nerves, perhaps, so he attempted to still the discomfort crawling up his backside.

Crossing the bridge, the three veered westward, off the road and deeper into the forest. The sound of gurgling water grew louder and the trees parted to reveal the healing spring and the magnificent, pure white rock in its middle. They stopped and remained still, listening, and only when they were certain no hobgoblins were about did they lean down to fill up their flasks.

"Suppose that dead cyclops must be raising a tremendous stench by now," Muramasa remarked.

The Arisen grinned. "Aye. 'Twas a fine scrap, that. Exhilarating, even."

"Master, please," Ozias said, "bounties give decent coin, but you shouldn't make a habit of killing every brute you come across."

"Bah! I took down one of those by myself before we even met. Size and brawn are all they've got, but they're a menace when prodded along by those silly goblins. Best that we exterminate them before some poor traveler ends up in a stewpot. But do you know what my greatest regret is? Not being able to find that hydra."

Muramasa chuckled. "Your ambition, ser, knows no bounds. You've yet to slay a drake and you want to hunt for a hydra?"

"That ought to impress the dragon, at least."

"If you continue like this, you shall take over the throne before you even set foot in the dragon's territory."

She laughed. "A pawn with a sense of humour is rare indeed!"

Again, that spark seared through Ozias like an ember that had just flared up. He turned away, bewildered, not knowing why his emotional state had been so strange lately. There was absolutely no reason for him to become angry at Muramasa for bantering with the Arisen. None at all. But why?

If it had only happened once, and never again, he would have thought nothing of it. But to experience it thrice within such a short time? Something was wrong...with himself. He resolved to ask his master once they had some time alone.

As they walked back towards Gran Soren, the anger thankfully left him, but his mind churned. Suppose the problem was not with him, but with Muramasa, who could be so human-like at times. Perhaps seeing such un-pawn-like behaviour was affecting Ozias too?

The Arisen held up a hand. "Wait. Do you see that?"

On the side of the road lay a figure. The air swirled above it, as if preparing to suck the figure inside.

"'Tis a pawn," Ozias said. "Expired, it seems."

The Arisen sprinted towards the figure, while her pawns drew their weapons and followed, their eyes scanning their surroundings. Ozias felt he already knew who had killed the poor pawn, and nocked an arrow to his bow.

They caught up with the Arisen, who knelt beside the body as it dissolved away into the small space of Rift above it. Her eyes burned.

Muramasa lunged in front of her, shield leading, and a solid thwack rang through the air as an arrow sprouted from the reinforced wood. Ozias lifted his bow, arrow drawn, watching as a familiar group of thugs emerged from their hiding places among the broken stones.

"Well, well," drawled one, "if it ain't the blighters that have been giving us a hard time. Brought the Arisen with you this time, eh?"

The Arisen rose to her feet, bow in hand. "Shooting at me was unwise."

"We wasn't aiming for you, lass." The man spat on the ground. "Rather, the thing that just disappeared."

"Pawn or not, she was innocent."

"Come now, we just thought we'd try and have a good time with her. But as it turns out, they don't even squeal or scream, so it wasn't fun at all. You, on the other hand, are a much better prize."

"Master," Ozias growled.

"Too bad," the thug continued with a smirk. "If it had been these two we could have had our revenge and that would be that, but now that you're here too—"

The Arisen yanked the arrow from Muramasa's shield and fired. The thug's head snapped backwards as the arrow speared him through the mouth, and he thudded to the ground.

"I tire of hearing this scum prattle on," the Arisen said, drawing another arrow from her quiver. "Destroy them as you see fit!"

Muramasa charged, and the other two provided covering fire while advancing. Ozias's arrow found its mark, burying itself in the chest of the thug with the bow. With that threat removed, he and his master easily sniped the others. Muramasa's blade gleamed as it whirled through the air, deflected other swords and chopped into flesh. Now that he no longer had to hold back, his true prowess as a fighter was a sight to behold.

Within moments, it was quiet again, the thugs' bodies strewn about the grass.

"I dislike giving gifts to goblins," the Arisen said coldly, slinging her bow back on her shoulder, "but today they shall feast. I regret we weren't able to save that poor pawn."

"Pawns do not die, Master. She has probably returned to the roads already, or gone to another world."

She turned to him, her eyes solemn...perhaps sad. "You do not die, that is true. But you do suffer."

He bowed his head. "Aye."

"'Tis unspeakable what these men tried to do to her. No pawn should ever be harmed in such a way." The Arisen heaved a sigh and looked at them. "The bandits spoke as if they knew you. What was this talk about revenge?"

At last, Ozias had his chance to recount everything that happened between him, Muramasa, and the thugs. As he spoke, he watched his master's face. A frown here, a widening of the eyes there, and another frown. She was mostly concerned.

"I am deeply sorry, Master," he said. "I should have told you instead of keeping it from you, but I did not want to worry you when you were injured."

"Was it Muramasa who encouraged you to remain silent?"

"Ser, I did no such thing," the other pawn said.

"Is that so? Two nights ago I clearly remember you talking about Barnaby's banquet and little else. Ozias barely spoke." She put her hands on her hips. "I never thought this possible, but do some pawns make a habit of hiding things from their masters?"

"Never!" Muramasa cried. "Arisen, no pawn would ever do something to your detriment!"

"Spare him," Ozias said. "I had ample opportunity to speak to you, but I thought we would never see them again and so I chose to forget about the matter. The fault is mine."

The Arisen rubbed her head, then grinned. "Troublemakers, both of you." She clapped their shoulders and strode past. "Move, or we won't get there before sundown."

They obeyed and jogged after her. But, Ozias thought, she had been right about one thing. That night, Muramasa had been very quick to hide their most recent encounter with the bandits and force Ozias to remain silent.

He knew what it meant to lie, but few pawns ever had a reason to lie about anything, and certainly none would ever lie to an Arisen. Well, Muramasa hadn't lied, only told part of the truth. Did that pawn's master have something to do with it, teaching him such a thing?

And if so, why?

They reached their destination in peace and did not encounter any other hostile beings, although a griffin passed overhead, but the magnificent creature paid them no attention.

"Tread carefully now," the Arisen said as they entered the copse of trees. "And remember, we are only here to observe."

Creeping into the trees, they spread out and strained eyes and ears. The deeper they got, the quieter it grew. Every step they made was measured, feeling out the ground for any twigs or branches before putting their full weight down.

Although faint, they smelled smoke, and followed the scent until a rhythmic rumbling rattled through the ground. The trees gave way into a clearing, surrounded by broken stumps. In the middle, curled up and with the sunlight soaking into its body, lay the drake. Its burgundy scales glittered in the light, as did its long black talons. Every time it snored, the vibrations quivered through their boots and into their bones.

Ozias and Muramasa looked to the Arisen, who jerked her head. They retreated from the copse and didn't relax until they reached the main road.

"So," the Arisen said, "it has run of the place, sleeping out in the open like that."

"Nothing in its right mind would bother a drake," Ozias remarked.

"No doubt that clearing was its doing, too. The drake is confident, and will only grow bolder with time."

"Are you ready to slay it, Master?"

"I can't dawdle any longer. I need to get back in good favour with the duke. Tomorrow, we make our move."

"Do we return to Gran Soren?" Muramasa glanced at the sky, now darkening orange. "We won't make it before nightfall. We'll have undead snapping at our heels the whole way back."

"Ozias, if we must flee, be sure you use your wire and trip this big oaf."

He blinked. "But he would be eaten."

"Ser," Muramasa said, "you will notice I am not laughing."

"The finer points of humour still evade you both, I'm afraid." Chuckling to herself, she turned. "Fear not, the undead shan't dine on pawns tonight. 'Tis not far to the quarry, let's stay the night there and return to the drake's lair in the morning."

"Your master dearly likes to tease us," Muramasa muttered as they walked.

"'Tis how she is."

The other pawn grunted and was silent. Ozias was glad for that. He understood Muramasa even less than before. Until he was able to ask the Arisen's advice, it was fine not having to speak to Muramasa.

They reached the quarry, exchanged greetings with the guards and went inside. The Arisen made use of her status to get them some food and drink and a place to rest until morning. They sharpened their weapons and tweaked bowstrings. Ozias kept an eye on Muramasa, waiting until the other pawn stretched out on a makeshift bed.

He got up and stepped over to the Arisen. "Master."

"What's the matter?"

"May we speak in private?"

She would never deny a request like that. They left their little tunnel and went back out into the central chamber.

"So, Ozias, what troubles you?"

"'Tis Muramasa. I fear he confuses me."

The Arisen, for some reason, found that amusing. "Ha! Strange indeed when a pawn claims not to understand another pawn."

"I fail to see the humour in that."

A big sigh. "Yes, yes. Speak then, one observation at a time. What about Muramasa do you find perplexing?"

"He upsets me. When he was bantering with you, I grew angry, and do not know why. 'Tis nothing, for a pawn to make conversation with the Arisen, yet I became angry all the same."

She cocked her head. "You're jealous of him? You, my pawn, jealous of another? Oh dear. The drake is the least of my worries now!"

"What is jealousy?"

"Let us speak of goblins, they ought to excel in jealousy. Say that the goblin chief has ruled the pack for some time, and some young upstart covets that position for himself and does everything he can to wrest the right to rule from the chief. 'Tis an emotion akin to anger, but not quite the same. Covetousness drives jealousy."

"Is it what prompts thieves to steal?"

"Aye."

"But I do not covet anything from Muramasa."

"Then why would you be jealous? Was it because you saw how well he and I were getting along, and found yourself lacking? Did you feel your own position threatened?" A pause. "He behaves more like a human than you do, and you think I like him better because of that. Is that why?"

Something surged like a hot wave through him. It was so abrupt, overwhelming, and painful that he gasped and clenched a hand against his chest.

The Arisen touched his shoulder. "Ozias?"

He couldn't answer. The strong flurry of emotion burned without pause. This had never happened before. Nothing was ever this strong. He was afraid, afraid to even open his mouth, because in that moment his entire being changed. He wanted...to say many different things at once. 'Twas a wild jumble of thoughts that all wanted speaking.

Yes, Master, I see you laughing with him in a way you do not laugh with me—Muramasa is unlike any other pawn, what do you see in him?—no, Master, it does not bother me in the slightest—would you wish me to be more like Muramasa?

And none of those thoughts were logical or calm. It was this maddening emotion prompting him to act.

That was what he didn't like. He was not himself.

Both the Arisen's hands gripped his shoulders now. "Ozias. Be calm. Breathe deeply and be calm."

He still couldn't move. His body shook with the effort of keeping silent, of trying to stop the painful torrent. For the first time in a long while, he was afraid. Genuinely, awfully afraid. Would it stop if he visited the Rift? He didn't know what to do to calm down, except to stand there and wait and hope it would be over so he could slip back into the familiar comfort of blankness. At least then, he knew he had control over himself and his actions.

The Arisen shook her head and pushed on his shoulders. "Sit. Your knees are trembling so much."

Ozias let his legs fold under him and tucked himself into a ball. His master knelt next to him and rubbed his back with her hand. And curiously, that gesture comforted him. He shivered. This was the first time she'd done something like this. It was different than the friendly slaps she so often gave. The storm in his chest receded and drained away into something more bearable. He sucked in a deep breath.

"Do you feel better?" the Arisen asked. "What happened? You're pale as bones and I've never seen you so distraught."

"I don't know. All of a sudden there was a surge of emotion the likes of which I've never felt before. It was powerful and painful. There were so many things I wanted to say to you, things that contradicted each other. I still cannot make sense of them."

The Arisen hesitated. "Were they about Muramasa?"

"I...yes. Oh, Master, forgive me. I don't understand what's happening to me. It makes me afraid. Of myself, and of Muramasa. All this trouble started after he joined us."

"He is blameless in this. Humans change when they form friendships with others. 'Tis natural, what is happening to you." A sideways glance. "Does this mean you are becoming more human?"

"I do not wish it, if it means dealing with these horrible emotions day in and day out."

She chuckled, and stretched out a hand to pull him to his feet. "Have you forgotten your master is human? I deal with emotions day in and day out, yet I am well as ever. You are unused to it, that's all. Come, you ought to rest."

Ozias nodded. If it was a chance to forget about emotions, he would take it.