I leave my rescuers’ house under cover of darkness. In the dungeon, I’d resigned myself to never seeing the sky again, and it’s overwhelming to step out into open grassland with the stars stretching as far as I can see. It feels like a trick or a dream, something that might be snatched away at any time. I walk as far as I can that night, wading over hills covered with grass as high as my knee. Every stray sound, every footstep or falling pebble, has me diving for the ground. As I huddle, hardly daring to breathe, I silently curse Ampara for the frightened rabbit I’ve become. There was a time when I was fearless, when I’d run into battle with no thought of the consequences, but now I know too much.

Dawn comes with no sign of pursuit, and I continue to travel by night, avoiding the emperor’s road and sticking to the side paths. When my supplies run out, I loot the occasional village for food. As my strength grows, so does my confidence, and I start to think about where to go. Truth is, I’m not sure where my people are. At the time I was captured, our fighters had been pushed into the mountains on Monyar Peninsula. But it’s been over a year since, and I wonder if they’ve been driven even farther back. I suppose they could have gained ground as well, but that’s never happened in my lifetime. Ten years ago, some of our tribe still lived on the main continent. But little by little, we fled to more remote regions, finally crossing the strait to Monyar. And the empire continues to expand its reach.

Still, even though it’s been a year, my best lead is to go where I’d last seen my people. After a week of travel, I reach the black waters of the Monyar Strait. I steal an unguarded rowboat and push it out as the tide’s going down in the evening. It’s windier than I expected, and I come perilously close to some sharp rocks on the way out, but finally I pull the boat onto the Monyar side. A pile of rocks and driftwood provides a hiding place for the boat, and I duck into the shelter of the forests to rest.