The third time Ren opened his eyes, strong hands were yanking him upright. A stern voice commanded him to stand, and he tried before realizing his legs wouldn't hold him and he collapsed. The hands caught him, holding him against a firm chest. He wanted to fall back asleep there, but the hands wouldn't let him. Neither would the voice, loud and insistent in his ear.

“Ren! Ren, for fuck's sake, wake up. We have to go.” It was Anik's voice, and he sounded angry – not that that was anything new. “You have to walk, Ren. Focus!”

Ren tried. He really did. Swallowing, he found that his throat felt like cotton. He willed his legs to straighten so he could take a step. One, then another.

“Hurry up!” Another voice. Niklas.

What was happening?

Anik pushed the tent flat aside and Ren made a sound of discomfort, squinting in the too-bright daylight. What time was it? What day was it?

Anik mercilessly dragged him along, Ren's feet skidding along the dew-wet grass. He tripped and fell. Anik caught him and hauled him back up.

There were other voices, too, angry voices. Angrier than Anik's. Ren struggled to piece together what had happened while his heart hammered with the effort to stay upright, to keep moving forward. He gulped in lungfuls of fresh air that helped clear his mind of a bit of the haze.

The Lowlander refugee camp. The drinking. Their leader, Sifa, collapsing at the same time as Ren did. Niklas had said he had been poisoned…then so had she. Ren couldn't get it to make sense.

They reached an open field. The wheat was cut short already, leaving only the severed stems.

“Take him,” Anik shouted, dumping all Ren's weight on Niklas, who groaned. Ren didn't see where Anik went, keeping his eyes trained on the path ahead. Niklas struggled to support both his weight and that of their bags. Ren could feel him trembling from exertion and he wanted to help him, but even raising his arm to steady himself against Niklas' shoulder felt like a monumental task.

Then Anik was back at his side, slipping an arm around Ren's back to take his weight. Looking down, he saw that Anik had drawn his sword. The blade was red with blood.

When Ren looked back up, they were surrounded by trees. His vision narrowed, darkened at the edges. He stumbled over rocks and tree roots and he reached up to clasp a tight hand around the back of Anik's neck to steady himself.

“He's going to pass out. We need to stop,” Niklas said, panting almost as hard as Ren.

“If they catch us, they'll kill us,” Anik hissed back, dragging Ren mercilessly onwards.

After another hundred yards, Ren's legs gave out, and this time, he couldn't get back up.

With an arm around Ren's waist, Anik dragged him sideways towards a fallen tree. There, they all dropped to the ground, panting and gasping.