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Although one flowed like liquid into the next, there was still a chaotic, yet controlled randomness to the actions. His mind connected the actions with the motions his body already knew. It was akin to opening a book and reading from the rear to the front. His muscles had long since committed the actions to memory, yet his mind had yet to connect the logic or theory behind them. Andr was astounded that he rarely had to correct Ryl after instruction was given.

Before long, Andr called an end to the informal training, tossing back the Leave. Ryl felt relieved having the pair reunited again in his grasp. He quickly tucked them away in his pack, afraid he might unintentionally activate the weapons.

“You did well today, Ryl. Very well in fact,” Andr remarked as they gathered their limited supplies. “I am in awe of how rapidly you've taken to it. You're sure you’ve never had any instruction as a child?”

“Yes, I'm sure,” Ryl snapped, immediately regretting the forcefulness of the response. “I'm sorry. My family's not a subject that elicits fond memories.”

“Please, don't apologize,” Andr said as he looked at Ryl. There was a profound sense of sympathy written across his face. “I misspoke, it is I who should apologize.”

He placed his hand on Ryl's shoulder.

“The rate at which you've comprehended and applied the lessons is astounding,” Andr said. “It's hard to believe you have a better grasp on the basic forms after a morning of training than many I've worked with over the cycles.”

“I can’t explain it,” Ryl said. “The positions just felt right.”

“Well, in that case,” Andr laughed. “Trust those instincts and you'll be fine. As long as our situation allows, we'll continue these training sessions every morning and night if we can.”

Ryl followed Andr to the top of the ridge, under whose earthen walls they’d spent the night. To the north, the jagged peaks of the mountains appeared no closer than they had since their journey had begun. In all other directions, the monotonous landscape stretched out to the horizon. Tall swaths of orange and red grasses scraped together in the breeze. Large patches of jagged bushes filled in the gaps between the stunted trees of the scattered groves. Large boulders and ridges dotted the land. The blazing orb of the sun had risen into the morning sky, and it beat down on them from the east as they surveyed the land ahead of them.

“We’ll head toward that line of ridges,” Andr said, pointing to the north.

A low, long ridge rose ahead of them slightly off to the west. The hill ran roughly due north, it’s farthest reaches beyond their view, disappearing into the distance.

“Looks like we can follow that for a good way,” Andr commented. “The mountains are to the north. As long as we continue heading that way, we’ve gotta run into them eventually.”

He chuckled aloud at his morbid sarcasm. Ryl appreciated his attempts at lightening the mood. Their situation was at best precarious. They’d been forced to rely on and trust the cryptic tidbits of information provided, to trek without a clear destination into the unknown wilds. Not only was Ryl’s newfound freedom on the line, so too were their lives.

“We'll press on as far as we can today,” Andr continued. “Keep an eye out for any small game. We're going to need more than carrots to keep us fed.”

“Sounds like as good a plan as any,” Ryl agreed with a shrug of his shoulders.

The pair moved carefully down the edge of the ridge, oblivious to the shadow that melted back into the small grove behind them.

Chapter 5

The monotony of the landscape was tedious. The absence of the full spectrum of colors, however, was the most disconcerting. It was as if they were viewing the world through a colored filter. Ryl never realized how much he missed and appreciated the vibrant greens of the forest.

The day’s journey stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. The thorny bushes all looked the same. Each boulder appeared to be a repeat of the last. On several occasions Ryl asked Andr if they'd lost their way.

The ridge on which they traveled, although relatively clear from the assault of the spiked thorn bushes, made for sluggish, wearisome progress. At Andr’s orders, the pair remained several paces down from the easier walking along the crest whenever possible. They chose not to announce their presence by silhouetting themselves against the clear sky.

The need for shelter, food, and water called an early halt to their trek. The end of their day’s travels found them again under the shade of a stunted copse of trees. Their shelter for the night was a small cave in a loose outcropping of rocks set into the western edge of the grove. The sun was only a hands width from the horizon and falling.

“Ryl, if you could, dig a hole for our fire here,” Andr said pointing to the loose dirt on the floor of their small cave. “Gather rocks and make a wall about shin high around the outer edge, facing the exit. This should help us hide the light. I'm going to set a few traps and look for water. Shout if you need me.”

Ryl nodded. His stomach rumbled at the mention of food. Their search for sustenance had come up empty throughout the day. The few small hares they encountered were far too skittish and speedy to run down. Their evening meal looked as if it would consist of a rationed supply of carrots.

Again.

It wasn’t long before Andr returned, another lump of vegetables swinging from his hand.

“Good news is at least we have clean water again,” he said with a smile, dropping his pack to the ground and placing the food carefully on the top. “It appears that each grove of trees is sustained by a spring like what we've found so far. While our stomachs will certainly argue their cause, food we can go without for a stretch. Water,

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