-Eight-

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"Remind me again, where are we going?" I panted, stumbling over roots hidden in the undergrowth.

"The camp," he replied calmly, slashing at vines that twisted to the floor with a dagger he had pulled from his satchel. Surprisingly, some of the items he had brought turned out to be quite useful. I didn't quite trust him when he claimed to know where he was going, but I was tired and had nowhere else to run to.

The sun could be seen, beginning to creep above the line of the horizon, vibrant hues starting to peek through the dense array of trees. We continued without a word, as he removed a canister of water from his leather bag and tossed it to me. I gratefully caught it, removing the cap and instantly letting the cold liquid drip down my parched throat.

"Thanks," I sighed, content with the now-empty bottle, the metal glistening slightly. But something in the reflection caught my eye. A small cottage could be seen in the distance, barely visible, but still there. I gasped at the sight, and Atlaster turned to face me with a questioning look.

"Over there," I pointed, gesturing towards the building. His face lit up when he saw it, and he immediately strayed from our original course in an attempt to reach it.

We both broke out into a prudent sprint, not truly caring if what was hidden in the foliage was dangerous enough to harm either of us. Eventually, we reached the path leading up to it, walking up to the looming wooden door.

"Do we knock?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"I don't know. The camp was supposed to be somewhere around here, but I don't remember this..." Reluctantly, he stepped up onto the concrete porch and gently pounded his fist against the door. "Be prepared for the worst."

Instantly, as if someone had their hand on the knob, waiting for our arrival, the entrance flung open. I expected to be greeted by an intimidating figure, an ambush perhaps, someone capable of killing us in an instant. But when an older lady opened the door, I was quite taken aback.

"I had a feeling you would come here!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace Atlaster. He looked just as surprised by the hug as I was, hesitant to place his hands around her. She was rather tall, roughly my height, with short, curly gray hair and emerald eyes. Green paint adorned her eyelids and crimson red was smeared across her lips. She whispered something in the water user's ear, and he seemed to chuckle at her words.

"She's with me, Guinevere, don't worry." I curled an eyebrow at his recognition of the strange woman, wondering just who she was.

"Ah, just making sure she won't hurt ya. You know how I am." She let go of Atlaster and turned to me with a polite smile, extending a hand for me to shake. I took it, but before I could protest, she pulled me closer and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Any girlfriend of Atlaster is a daughter of mine." I flushed at her words, stumbling to speak against any idea of us having a relationship. But before I could, her creaking voice mumbled in my ear. ""Hurt him, I take your head. Understood?"

Regardless of her age a chill still ran through my spine, my blood running cold as I could feel vines slithering against my legs, slowly wrapping themselves around me; she was a nature user, and this was her domain.

"Yes ma'am," I hoarsely replied.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed, removing me from her arms and turning back towards Atlaster. "Well then, I suppose you're worn. I can make an exception and let you into the camp. That is, on one condition."

"What is it?" he questioned, quirking an eyebrow as she smiled.

"You must promise to return more frequently. I haven't got to see your face since you were just a little one." She smiled at him as he shook his head, a grin dancing on his lips.

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