"Naya..." Ronan speaks, balancing on the white lines painted on the outside of the deserted road, trying his best not to 'fall off', much like that of a child playing their own game.

They decided to walk along the road parallel to the river as the ground was a lot smoother where they originally were, and as long as they didn't lose sight of the water, then surely there was no point wasting time to walk towards it when they could just keep walking side by side it.

"About what we saw on that island..." He begins, his voice rough as memories of that day flash behind his eyelids. He speaks slowly, carefully, almost as if he were wishing that his voice won't betray him, "I want answers, so bad"

"I know" Naya agrees, smiling bitterly as she hears the slight whine in Ronan's voice, "So do I... but I don't know how we can get them"

Since she was isolated from any and all Balletors (apart from Ronan), she didn't have anyone to turn to for answers, especially since Arlen refused to talk to her about it.

To be honest, even if she wasn't, she didn't know who she would go to.

Murder is not something one talks lightly about.

It kept her up all last night, agonising over every second of the vision that she saw- a lifeless body twisted uncomfortably on the ground, Arlen's face stained with his own tears, his hands shaking...

She wonders why he did it.

She wonders what could've been if he didn't... Would he have won Luna's hand... Would he have been Iuana's Lord... Would he be living a comfortable life... Would he be happier...

Naya shakes her head harshly.

None of that mattered.

She knew all too well of consequences dished out by the council- both her and Arlen were damned, and there was nothing more to it.

"I... thought of one way" He speaks up, albeit rather hesitantly as he scans Naya's face, watching vigilantly as to any displayed emotions that might indicate what she was feeling, "It might not get us anywhere, but it's worth a try?"

Despite becoming somewhat comfortable with Ronan over the past couple of weeks, she still wasn't one to parade around with her heart on her sleeve. She still kept her emotions rather private, careful about what she shows others, however, at such an idea, Naya urges Ronan to go on, desperate for some solution, for some answers.

"What if I go back to Iuana and maybe ask around?"

But at such a suggestion, Naya stops in her tracks.

If he were to ask around Iuana?

No.

Absolutely not.

That's career suicide for sure.

"That.." Naya furrows her eyebrows as Ronan's words ring in her ears, that would be so dangerous, if even one Balletor grew suspicious- heck, Emelia already had a hunch he was off doing something not all that decent, "Well.. who would you ask?"

Ronan shrugs his shoulders, his arms flailing slightly as he almost loses his footing, the boy quick to regain his balance as he places his foot in front of the other, down onto the thin white line, "There are elders who would've trained with Arlen... who might know what happened to Frewin"

"We know what happened to Frewin" Naya snaps automatically, shaking her head as she does so with a quiet apology, "He was murdered by two of his own"

"I just... I think there are answers back in Iuana" He admits, looking over to Naya, who seems rather interested in her shoes at the time being, "What about Emelia-?"

"No, absolutely not" Naya shuts down such a thought immediately.

"What? Why?"

Naya couldn't help but laugh, "You want to ask the girl who tracked you to the top of the Westward Rocks because she was suspicious of you doing something, about her father who murdered her mother's father's right hand man?"

There's a beat of silence between them as Ronan tries to wrap his head around what Naya had just said.

"Well... I wouldn't word it like that" He sulks, a pout sitting upon his face as Naya just continues to shake her head.

"It's far too risky!"

"She might know something!" Ronan points out to which Naya just rolls her eyes.

"She would turn you in"

And a momentary silence befalls them as they both know that she is right.

Ronan might be engaged to her, but there's no substance there.

If she feels like he's asking too many of the wrong questions, she will bring him in, they both know that much.

With a defeated sigh, Ronan jumps off of the road markings, now content with just walking besides them, "But do we have another idea?"

And now they're plunged into another silence because this time neither of them know of any alternative.

They have no clue what to do with the information that they had acquired from the Southern Sea. They new that something was off, especially with Mr Bronwell, but they feel like they have no one to turn to that could help them. The worst part of it all was knowing that Arlen was the one that sent them there, he wanted them to find out what they did... so why couldn't he elaborate? Why couldn't he clear things up? Help them?

"I'll... give it some time and I'll talk to Arlen again?" Naya responds desperately, she knows that nothing will probably come of it but anything is better than sending Ronan back to Iuana with a target on his back.

"He's not going to answer anything"

"Ronan..." She sighs, turning her head to the side to try and catch his eye, "We promised each other that we'd finish this quest together... we have one hundred and eighty six days... I need you for each and every one of them- we can't afford for you to compromise yourself like that" She explains, "We'll think about it... we'll talk about it later, let's just... let's focus on now"

With his head hanging low, Ronan nods his head, promising Naya that they won't make any rash decisions, that they will stick together.

And with feeling so crushed, so lost, they continue across the sun scorched lands, finding brief solace in the minimal shade of the trees that tower above them, as they both suck in a deep breath, not truly knowing where to go from here.

~~~

Now left alone with his own thoughts, his own memories, Arlen leans back against one of the wooden chairs in his home, his eyes closed as his breathing evens out.

Bound by the chains of his consequences, Arlen casts his gaze over to the box pushed into the corner of the room. It was full to the brim with books and bottles... and a certain weapon.

He has never touched it again.

Not since that night.

When he teaches Naya and Ronan he'll demonstrate with his bare hands, when he spars he'll borrow one of theirs but he has never touched it since then, and he never will.

He keeps it close as a reminder of what Balletors are capable of, of what they can do when they let themselves become slaves to their own emotions, of their own weaknesses- greed... envy...

He keeps it there to remind himself what regime Naya is fighting to overcome.

And with everything in him, he swears to help her succeed.