As the first rays of sunshine began to streak through the side window of our tent, I slowly emerged from a restless slumber. My eyes, heavy with sleep, felt gritty as I rubbed them, trying to shake off the remnants of a night filled with turmoil.

Beside me, Chris started to stir, a stark contrast to the calmness of dawn. He opened his eyes wearily, the fatigue etched on his face. “Good morning,” he whispered groggily, his voice rough with sleep. Despite the exhaustion, a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, a small gesture of normalcy in our otherwise chaotic world.

However, the weight of the previous night's events was still too fresh in my mind. My logical instincts, sharpened by the reality of our situation, took control. “Is it?” I replied rather sharply, my voice tinged with a mix of fatigue and lingering stress. The thought of facing another day in Clivilius, with its unknown challenges and dangers, loomed over me.

Chris's expression shifted as he frowned, his brow furrowing. He seemed momentarily taken aback by my response, perhaps not fully aware of the extent of the turmoil that we were waking up to. He rolled over, turning his back to me, a silent indicator of his discomfort with the tension between us.

Just then, Glenda’s voice hissed from the tent’s entrance. “Psst. Chris. Are you awake yet?” Her voice was urgent, cutting through the stillness of the morning.

A brief moment of silence followed. I glared at Chris’s back, my impatience growing. I waited for him to respond, to engage with the reality that awaited us outside the tent. But he remained motionless, seemingly reluctant to face the day.

“Chris! Get up!” I hissed sharply, nudging his back with my elbow, urging him into action.

As Chris groaned in protest, his reluctance to leave the warmth of his sleeping bag was palpable. “What?” he mumbled, his voice groggy, eyes barely focusing as he tried to wake up.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his slow response. My gesture was a silent plea for him to hurry, as I motioned towards Glenda, who was waiting with an urgency that couldn’t be ignored.

Before Chris could ask any questions, Glenda’s voice cut through the morning air again. “Chris, I need your urgent help,” she insisted, her tone sharp and serious.

“Get up, would you,” I scolded him, my patience wearing thin. I quickly unzipped my own sleeping bag and clambered out, feeling a rush of cool air hit my skin.

“Oh,” Chris exclaimed in surprise, suddenly spurred into action by the urgency in our voices. He fumbled his way out of the sleeping bag, his movements clumsy as he scrambled to find fresh clothes.

Chris hurriedly unzipped the front flap of the tent and poked his head out, still half-dressed. “I need you to help me get Kain to the lagoon. We need to hurry,” Glenda informed him, her voice laced with a sense of dire necessity.

“Not this again,” I muttered under my breath, my concern growing. The belief some camp members held in the lagoon's healing properties seemed more like desperate hope than anything else. But then, a sudden realisation hit me – Glenda had mentioned Kain, not Duke. My heart skipped a beat at the thought that we might have suffered another loss in the camp.

“Put some blinkin’ pants on!” I found myself scolding Chris, my tone a mix of exasperation and urgency, as he awkwardly tried to dress himself in a hurry.

“I’ll meet you at the medical tent,” Glenda called out to Chris before she turned and left.

Realising that Chris had managed to fully dress himself while I still searched in the dim light for a clean shirt, “Go. I’ll meet you there,” I told him.

Once Chris had left, a wave of frustration washed over me. In my haste and agitation, a quiet, “Shit,” escaped my lips almost imperceptibly as I hurriedly pulled on the first t-shirt I could lay my hands on.

Making my way to the medical tent, I entered just in time to see Chris and Glenda hovering over Kain, who lay motionless on a mattress. The scene was sobering, the seriousness of Kain’s condition evident even from the tent's entrance.

“I’ll get Karen,” Glenda said to Chris, her back to me, not realising I had already arrived.

“No need,” I called out from the entrance, my voice carrying a mix of resolve and concern. “I figured you might need some more help,” I added, quickly making my way towards them. “What do you need?” I asked Glenda directly, ready to assist in any way I could.

“We need to carry Kain to the lagoon,” Glenda replied, her eyes meeting mine. Her voice dropped to just above a whisper, “He currently has no use of his legs.”

My eyes widened in shock at her revelation. The gravity of Kain’s condition hit me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't realised there was another injury from last night's chaos, especially one so serious. I nodded, my mind racing, as I moved to stand beside Chris.

“I’ll take the bulk of his weight,” Chris said, looking at me. His expression was one of determination, underscored by a hint of worry. “Can you support his waist and legs?”

“Of course,” I replied without hesitation, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The weight of the responsibility was heavy, but there was no room for doubt. We had to act, and quickly.

The task of lifting Kain was more challenging than I had anticipated. As we hoisted him up, grunts and moans escaped our lips, a chorus of exertion and concern. Despite his young age and slight build, Kain's muscular frame added to the difficulty, forcing Chris and me to dig deep into our reserves of strength.

Once we emerged into the clear daylight, we found a steady rhythm in carrying Kain. My attention, however, was repeatedly drawn to his injured leg. Glenda had hastily wrapped the wound in material, but despite her efforts as a doctor, blood continued to seep through, staining the makeshift bandage. The persistent bleeding was a stark indicator of the severity of his injury, and it filled me with a deep sense of unease.

As we walked, I grimaced with each step, the weight of Kain's body and the gravity of the situation pressing down on me. Between strained breaths, I managed to ask Glenda what had happened. Her explanation sent chills down my spine. She described how they had ventured into the darkness to chase after Lois and were attacked by a creature that she likened to a black panther – stealthy, vicious, and deadly.

Assuming that Glenda was already aware of Duke’s fate, I didn’t bring it up, and she didn’t mention it. It seemed likely that both Kain and Duke had fallen victim to the same creature. The thought was both terrifying and tragic. Yet, amidst the horror of the attack, a peculiar thought crossed my mind. The existence of such a creature, as frightening as it was, hinted at the possibility of more life beyond our small camp. Maybe, just maybe, there were more people out there, people who could help us survive in this strange and dangerous new world.

The journey to the lagoon, burdened by the weight of Kain's body, was a gruelling one. Finally, when we crested the final hill, the lagoon came into view. Despite my struggle with Kain's weight, I couldn't help but gasp audibly. I had heard about the mysterious lagoon several times, but this was my first encounter with it. It was a sight of strange beauty – the clear, pristine waters standing in stark contrast to the surrounding landscape of browns, reds, and oranges. The presence of such a pure body of water, amidst a barren and lifeless terrain, sent an eerie shiver down my spine.

Reaching the water's edge, Chris and I carefully lowered Kain onto the bank. I watched Glenda with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism as she gently dipped her fingers into the water. Her body trembled slightly upon touching the water, as if the lagoon held some profound significance for her. With a look of determination, she motioned for us to move Kain closer to the water's edge, and she carefully guided his legs towards it.

The moment Kain's foot made contact with the water, a gut-wrenching groan escaped his lips. Instinctively, Chris and I jerked him back from the lagoon, our faces mirroring the shock and confusion we felt. It was baffling – how could water, especially water that appeared so serene and inviting, cause such pain? Kain's foot, seemingly uninjured apart from its immobility, shouldn't have reacted so violently to a mere touch of water.

“He’s fine,” Glenda insisted, her grip on Kain’s leg firm and unwavering.

I was far from convinced. A tense battle of wills ensued between us, with Glenda's determination ultimately prevailing. Reluctantly, Chris and I helped her submerge Kain’s leg into the water again. My mind was a whirlwind of questions and doubts. What is this place? What power does this water hold? And most importantly, is it truly healing, or something else entirely?

As Kain bit his lower lip and blinked rapidly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil, he finally spoke, “I want to be alone for a while.” His voice was low, tinged with a mixture of pain and determination.

I couldn’t suppress a scolding tone in response. “Don’t be such an idiot. You can’t be alone right now,” I told him firmly. The thought of him being alone was unthinkable – not only was he unable to walk, but the threat of the black panther-like creature still loomed over us, a constant, dangerous presence.

Kain turned to Glenda, his eyes filled with a silent plea. “Karen’s right,” Glenda agreed, her voice carrying a hint of regret. “It’s not safe for you to be alone out here.”

A sudden pang of fear struck my chest at her words. If Kain isn’t safe, then who among us is? The possibility of encountering the creature was a terrifying prospect. I shuddered at the thought, questioning whether I could even outrun a panther if it came down to it.

“Then take me back…” Kain began to protest, but Chris cut him off.

“I’ll stay here with him,” Chris said decisively, his gaze fixed on Kain. “I can clean his wound.”

Kain nodded, seeming to find some comfort in Chris’s decision. “I’ll be safe with Chris,” he insisted, his voice carrying a note of pleading.

I couldn’t help but feel frustrated at Kain’s insistence. Does he really think now is the time to assert his independence? It felt more like recklessness than bravery.

“As long as you make sure his leg gets submerged for a reasonable amount of time,” Glenda instructed Chris, her tone serious as Kain’s leg twitched in response. “Regardless of how much he groans about it.”

Chris nodded, his expression solemn, acknowledging the responsibility he was undertaking.

Glenda then got to her feet, releasing Kain’s leg, and I couldn’t help but voice my concern. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked, my words laced with doubt and worry.

“We’re sure,” Kain interjected quickly, his tone a bit too forceful.

Glenda, crouching down, placed a comforting hand on Kain's shoulder. “You could lose your leg if you don’t let the water help you,” she reminded him gently yet firmly.

With a tug, Glenda pulled me to my feet, and reluctantly, I followed her away from the lagoon.

As we walked back to the camp through the sand, the early morning air was already beginning to warm up. I could feel small beads of sweat forming across my brow, a reminder of the rising sun and the day's heat to come.

“Did those two seem a little odd to you?” I asked Glenda, my voice laced with concern and curiosity. The whole situation at the lagoon felt unusual, and I couldn’t shake off a sense of unease.

“I’m sure they’re just being men,” Glenda replied, her tone suggesting she was unfazed by their insistence on being left alone. She seemed to attribute their behaviour to typical masculine bravado rather than anything more concerning.

I wasn’t entirely convinced. “You don’t think maybe there is something weird with the water?” I continued, still trying to make sense of what had happened. “I mean, look what we discovered with the soil.” The strange properties of Clivilius were still largely a mystery, and the soil had already proven to be unlike anything we knew.

Glenda slowed her pace, her boots kicking up small puffs of dust with each step. “I believe the water has some interesting healing properties. I suspect the healing process hurts a little,” she mused, her voice thoughtful.

“Hence the manly facade,” I scoffed, a little cynically. The idea that the pain was just something to be endured with a tough exterior seemed a bit simplistic to me.

“Exactly!” Glenda agreed, apparently seeing no reason to question their behaviour further.

“But you don’t think that maybe we…” I began, but my train of thought was abruptly interrupted as Glenda stopped and grabbed my arm. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Chris will get us if they have any problems,” she assured me, her grip firm.

I let out a loud sigh, a mix of frustration and resignation. “I suppose you’re right,” I conceded, although I couldn’t shake off my lingering doubts. It seemed like I was the only one perturbed by the whole situation, and that only added to my feeling of isolation.

As Glenda's grip on my arm tightened, her eyes narrowed, scrutinising the three-inch scratch on my forearm. “How did you get that scratch?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.

The memory of the previous night's events instantly resurfaced, darkening my expression. “Oh,” I said, my voice heavy with the weight of those memories. “Duke accidentally scratched me when Chris and I attempted to help Jamie and Duke.” The recollection of the panic and fear we had faced sent a shiver through me.

Glenda's eyes narrowed further, her suspicion apparent. "Why did Jamie and Duke need help?” she inquired, seemingly unaware of the night’s traumatic events.

“You haven’t heard?” I was taken aback by her lack of knowledge about the incident. It had consumed my thoughts so entirely that I had assumed it would be common knowledge among the camp by now.

“Heard what?” Glenda’s voice was tentative, cautious.

Swallowing hard, I braced myself to relay the news. “Duke-” My voice caught in my throat, and I had to clear it before continuing. “Duke was attacked last night too. He didn't make it.” The words felt heavy, laden with sorrow.

Glenda gasped, her hand flying to cover her mouth, her grip on my arm loosening. “A Shadow Panther?” she whispered, her voice a mixture of shock and disbelief.

I nodded, confirming her worst fears.

Her eyes, now glistening in the bright morning sun, reflected a complex mix of emotions. “I know Duke and I weren’t exactly on the friendliest of terms, but…” Her voice trailed off, lost in a sea of unspoken thoughts.

Regaining her composure, Glenda looked me directly in the eyes. “Are Duke and Kain our only losses?" she asked, the question hanging heavily between us.

I felt a surge of tension in my face. “We haven’t lost Kain yet,” I replied sharply, a bit defensive at the suggestion.

“Of course not,” Glenda quickly corrected herself, her expression softening.

“But yes,” I continued, my voice gentler now, realising her question was more about clarity than insensitivity. “I’m pretty sure that Duke and Kain were the only ones injured.”

We walked back to the camp in silence, each lost in our thoughts. The camp felt eerily quiet as we approached. Without a word, Glenda suddenly veered off towards Jamie’s tent.

She returned moments later, her face etched with exasperation and fear. “Where are Jamie and Duke?” she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

I shook my head, equally perplexed. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. I hadn’t seen them since last night.

The sound of rising voices drifted from behind the tents, indicating that Jamie might still be by the river with Duke. I wasn't ready to revisit that scene of sorrow again, so I busied myself with the campfire, my thoughts anxiously turning towards Chris and Kain. The wait for their return from the lagoon was torturous, filled with a blend of hope and apprehension. The uncertainty of our situation in Clivilius weighed heavily on me, each passing moment stretching into an eternity.

As I tended to the campfire, lost in my thoughts and anxiously waiting for Chris's return, Paul approached me with an urgency that immediately caught my attention. The look on his face was grave, a stark contrast to the usual calm and composed demeanour he typically maintained.

“Karen, I need you to go and get Chris and Kain from the lagoon,” he said, his voice firm, yet laced with an underlying current of concern. “We need everyone back at camp and accounted for – it looks like Joel is missing!”

His words hit me like a sudden gust of wind, jolting me out of my contemplative state. The thought of Joel missing added another layer of worry to the already tense atmosphere of the camp. I felt a rush of adrenaline course through me, a mixture of concern for Joel and the urgency of the situation.

Without a moment's hesitation, I nodded in agreement. “I’ll go right now,” I responded, the gravity of Paul’s request fuelling my swift reaction. The thought of Joel, alone and possibly in danger, propelled me into action.

From my vantage point atop the dune that overlooked the lagoon, I called out as loudly as I could. “Chris! Kain!” My voice carried over the distance, but it was hard to discern their activities from here. Kain seemed to be still lying down, while Chris appeared to be digging in the dirt. The sight was baffling – what could possibly be the reason for him to be digging at a time like this?

I quickened my pace, descending the dune with a sense of unease. By the time I reached them, I was slightly out of breath, my face flushed from the exertion. “Have either of you seen Joel out here?” I asked immediately, my tone laced with urgency as my eyes scanned the shores of the lagoon, searching for any sign of him.

“No,” Chris replied, shaking his head with a look of concern. “It’s just been Kain and I since you left us earlier.”

Kain’s face creased with concentration as he tried to recall. “I don’t think I’ve seen him since dinner last night,” he said, his expression turning uneasy. “Is everything okay?”

I hesitated for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. “It appears that Joel is missing,” I revealed, my voice heavy with worry. I reached out to steady Kain as he tried to stand on his injured leg and stumbled slightly.

“How is your leg doing?” I inquired, shifting my attention to his injury.

“It’s still really painful,” Kain grimaced, each movement causing him visible discomfort.

“Come on,” I urged them, my anxiety rising. The isolation of the lagoon suddenly felt more threatening, and I was keen to get back to the safety and numbers of the camp. “Let’s get back to camp. Paul’s requested that everyone gather at the campfire.”

Chris looked up, confusion etched on his face. “Why the rush?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“Just come on,” I insisted, gesturing impatiently for us to start moving. The urgency in my voice was unmistakable. “We need to find Joel.”

As we trudged toward the camp, I couldn't help but notice Kain's discomfort. It was evident in the way he moved – each step a struggle against pain. “Help Kain, would you,” I scolded Chris, surprised and a little annoyed at his apparent lack of attention. Something felt off between the two men, a subtle shift in their dynamics that I couldn't quite decipher.

Chris, after a brief hesitation, moved to Kain's side. Kain gingerly wrapped his arm around Chris’s shoulder, leaning on him heavily. The way Chris hesitated and Kain’s reluctance to accept help spoke volumes of the unspoken tension between them.

“It’s fine,” Kain assured me, waving me off as I moved to assist on his other side. His independence, even in pain, was both admirable and a little frustrating.

We had barely started climbing the first dune when a loud bark shattered our retreat, sending a chill down my spine. My mind raced with fear – were the deadly creatures that lurked in Clivilius already upon us?

I turned toward the sound, and there stood Lois at the edge of the lagoon, growling and barking insistently at the water. “I didn’t know Lois was here too,” I said, the surprise evident in my voice.

“Me neither,” Chris echoed, equally baffled.

“I wonder what she’s found?” I pondered aloud, my curiosity piqued despite the situation. I took a few steps towards Lois, hoping to discern the cause of her agitation.

“I think we should keep moving,” Kain interjected, his tone uninterested, perhaps more focused on the pain and the journey ahead.

I glanced back over my shoulder at them. “You two keep moving. I’ll go and see what the problem is,” I decided, feeling a responsibility to investigate.

“Karen, please be careful. We don’t need you going missing too,” Chris said, his voice laced with concern.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I tried to sound reassuring, but I couldn’t hide the growing unease inside me.

Leaving Chris and Kain to continue their slow journey back to camp, I approached Lois at the lagoon’s edge. “Lois!” I called out, attempting to draw her attention. My heart pounded with a mix of apprehension and determination. As I neared the water, Lois's barking intensified, her focus fixed on something in the lagoon.

Cautiously, I edged closer, my eyes scanning the water’s pristine surface. The lagoon, usually serene and crystal clear, now swirled with an unusual phenomenon. Pockets of water seemed to be swirling in a pattern, creating miniature whirlpools that danced across the surface. It was both mesmerising and unsettling.

I knelt down beside Lois, trying to understand what I was seeing. The whirlpools moved with a strange rhythm, as if following an invisible force beneath the water. It was unlike anything I had ever witnessed, a display of nature's mysteries that was both beautiful and unnerving.

Lois continued to growl softly, her body tense, as if she too sensed that this phenomenon was out of the ordinary. I reached out to gently pat her, trying to calm her, but my eyes remained fixed on the swirling water.

In that moment, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind. Was this another aspect of Clivilius's hidden secrets? Could this be related to the soil's unusual properties, or perhaps even the lagoon’s reputed healing abilities? The questions mounted, each one adding to the enigma of this place.

After a few moments of watching, I realised I couldn’t linger any longer. Chris and Kain needed assistance, and the mystery of the lagoon would have to wait. Reluctantly, I stood up, giving Lois one final pat.

As I turned to leave, I made a mental note to keep this discovery to myself, at least for now. The camp was already rife with tensions and mysteries, and this new phenomenon, as intriguing as it was, could add unnecessary fear or false hope. We needed to focus on finding Joel and ensuring everyone's safety.

With a final glance back at the lagoon, I hurried to catch up with Chris and Kain. The image of the dancing whirlpools remained etched in my mind, a haunting reminder of the unknowns that remained hidden.

As I caught up to Chris and Kain, who were almost at the top of the final hill, Lois energetically ran ahead of me. She was a flurry of motion, her saturated fur sending droplets of water flying as she enthusiastically greeted them. Her presence seemed to lighten the mood, even if just for a moment.

I hastened my steps, feeling the strain of the morning’s events on my body. Chris and Kain paused upon noticing my approach, giving me a chance to catch up. The concern was evident in Chris's eyes, and I could see the weariness etched on Kain's face.

“What was the problem?” Chris asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I quickly shook my head, dismissing the incident. “It was nothing,” I replied. I didn't want to alarm Kain or add to the existing worries. Shooting Chris a stern glare, I silently conveyed that we shouldn't discuss the strange phenomenon at the lagoon any further. Now wasn't the time.

“Let’s keep moving,” Kain urged, his voice strained but determined.

We resumed our journey, making our way back toward the camp in a mostly silent procession. My mind was preoccupied with what I had witnessed at the lagoon, but I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the immediate task at hand – rejoining the others and dealing with the situation of Joel's disappearance.

As we neared the camp, the sense of anticipation intensified. Lois, ever the energetic companion, bounded ahead of us, finding comfort in Glenda’s welcoming arms. Her actions provided a small moment of normalcy amidst the tension.

Paul and the warrior woman, who Kain informed me was named Charity, stood nearby. Their stoic presence was a stark reminder of the serious nature of the gathering that awaited us. Charity’s eyes were keen and alert, her stance exuding a quiet strength that seemed to command respect.

“The feeling has returned in my good leg,” Kain announced to Glenda, a hint of relief in his voice as we approached.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Glenda responded, her voice tinged with genuine concern as she rose to her feet. “And the other leg?” she inquired, her gaze intently focused on Kain.

“Seems to be quite the miracle,” I added, trying to lighten the mood as we made our way closer to the group gathering near the campfire.

“I’ll be sure to give it plenty of rest,” Kain assured her, his tone a mix of gratitude and seriousness.

Chris chimed in with an idea. “We can make you some crutches,” he suggested, his eyes alight with the prospect of crafting a solution.

However, I quickly dismissed the idea. “Forget making crutches,” I said, my voice firm with resolve. “Just have Luke bring us some real ones,” I directed my words towards Paul, feeling that efficiency and practicality were key in our current situation.

“That’s a much better idea,” Glenda agreed, nodding in approval. But her attention was suddenly diverted towards the tents.

Curious, I followed her gaze and saw Beatrix and Jamie emerging from around the canvas walls. My heart sank at the sight of Jamie, his face etched with grief, holding a bloodied bundle in his arms. The reality of our situation hit me anew – the dangers of Clivilius were ever-present, and the loss we had already endured was a painful reminder of the fragility of our existence here.

As Paul straightened his posture, there was an air of determination about him that commanded attention. “Jamie,” he began, his voice cracking with a mix of authority and emotion. “I know things are painful right now, but we need to know when you last saw Joel.”

Jamie halted mid-step, a visible shift in his demeanour. The air seemed to thicken with tension as everyone waited for his response. When Jamie finally spoke, his voice was laden with sorrow, the weight of recent events pressing down on him. “It was just before the attack last night,” he said, his words slow and heavy. “He was in bed in the tent when I took off after Duke.”

Paul’s line of questioning continued. “And when you returned?” he pressed, his voice firm yet gentle.

Jamie’s face was a canvas of grief and guilt. He remained silent, his expression speaking volumes of the turmoil he was experiencing within.

Glenda, her arms crossed tightly, broke the silence. “Then it’s settled," she said, her tone carrying a note of finality. “Joel is missing.”

At that moment, Charity, the warrior woman, stepped away from the campfire. Her every move exuded confidence and authority. “I am certain that Joel has been taken by a Portal Pirate. I will hunt him down and bring Joel back,” she announced with unwavering conviction.

My eyes widened in shock. A Portal Pirate? The term was unfamiliar, yet it sent a chill down my spine. The situation was escalating into realms I had never imagined.

Jamie, driven by a desperate need to act, quickly interjected, “I’m coming with you.” His voice was thick with determination, a clear indication that he was prepared to face whatever dangers lay ahead.

Charity’s nod was resolute, her decision made. “Prepare your things. We leave immediately.”

The look of sheer terror in Jamie’s eyes struck a chord in me. My heart ached for him, for the burden he was carrying, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As Charity approached Jamie, her gesture was both reassuring and commanding. She placed her hand under his chin, lifting his face to meet her gaze. Her words were direct, almost harsh in their bluntness. “If you want any chance of finding Joel alive, we must leave immediately.”

The scene before me was overwhelming. My gaze shifted away from the tense exchange between Jamie and Charity, only to fall upon a sight that sent a cold shiver down my spine. There, near the campfire, lay the motionless form of a black panther-like creature, its once sleek fur now matted with dried blood. Its lifeless eyes stared blankly into nothingness, a chilling reminder of the peril we had faced and the tragic consequences of its attack.

“I need to say farewell to Duke first,” Jamie’s voice broke through my shock, his tone quivering with emotion.

I forced myself to look away from the creature, turning back to Jamie and Charity. The weight of the decision Jamie faced was palpable, and my heart ached for him.

Charity’s response was unsympathetic, almost harsh. “Life is full of decisions and consequences. You need to make a choice, Joel or Duke.” Her words echoed with a brutal truth that seemed too much to bear.

A lump formed in my throat, my stomach twisted in distress. The cruelty of having to choose between mourning and action was unimaginable.

Beatrix's intervention brought a moment of poignant calm to the turbulent emotions swirling around us. As she stepped between Jamie and Charity, her actions were tender and understanding, gently taking Duke from Jamie’s arms. ““Duke knows you love him, Jamie. He won’t ever forget that,” she assured him, her voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos of our reality.

Jamie's response was heartbreakingly gentle. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on Duke’s wrapped head, his words barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Duke,” he whimpered. Then, with a noticeable effort, he straightened his back and stood taller, as if gathering his strength from some unseen reservoir. “I’ll grab my things,” he declared, his voice stronger, but still carrying the weight of his grief.

My eyes began to sting with unshed tears, the scene unfolding before me igniting an intense wave of helplessness within. The stark reality that neither Duke nor Joel could be brought back instantly, was a painful truth too difficult to bear.

Jamie, pausing momentarily in his departure, cast a glance over his shoulder. His voice trembled as he made a heartfelt request, “Take good care of Henri for me.” His plea was a testament to his love for his pets, a love that transcended the present circumstances.

Paul stepped forward and scooped the plump dog into his arms. “We’ll keep him safe, Jamie. You have my word.” His assurance was a promise, a beacon of stability in our shaken camp.

Jamie retreated into his tent without another word, his steps heavy, with Charity following closely behind. The sense of loss was palpable, and the air was heavy with unspoken grief and fear.

“Clivilius!” Glenda's scream cut through the silence, her voice filled with a mixture of agony and revelation. As she collapsed to her knees, pounding her fists into the ground, her entire being seemed to be consumed by a torrent of emotions. Her face, when she looked up, was a canvas of pain and epiphany.

Paul, caught off guard by this unexpected outburst, approached her cautiously. “Glenda?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. “Are you alright?”

Glenda’s response was both startling and cryptic. “My father is alive!” she exclaimed, her hands shooting upwards, her entire demeanour shifting from despair to a sort of elated trance. It was as if she had been possessed by a sudden surge of euphoria, her revelation leaving her in a state of shock, unresponsive to Chris’s attempts to bring her back to reality.

Beatrix, too, broke away from the group, her gaze was distant, fixated on some far-off point beyond our camp. She held Duke in her arms, a symbol of the loss we had all suffered. Her sudden departure was both surprising and alarming.

“Beatrix, where are you going?” Paul's voice was tinged with confusion and disbelief. His call echoed my own concerns, but Beatrix seemed undeterred.

“Home!” she shouted back, her voice strong and resolute, leaving no room for doubt or question.

Kain’s unexpected announcement made me take an involuntary step back. “I’m going with Beatrix,” he said, his voice firm, reflecting a decision already made in his mind.

“You need to rest,” I countered, my concern for him evident in my tone. My gaze locked onto his, conveying the seriousness of my words as I reached for his arm, trying to convince him to stay.

“I need crutches,” Kain retorted, his determination pushing me away. “If Beatrix brings me some crutches, I can go with my uncle,” he said, his belief in Beatrix unwavering.

“Don’t be so foolish,” I rebuked, my voice laced with worry. It was reckless for him to even consider leaving in his condition.

But Kain was not to be swayed by my words. Ignoring my pleas, he began to follow Beatrix, his movement laboured and painful, his bare feet sinking into the soft dust of the camp as he hobbled forward.

I couldn’t just stand there and watch him leave. Instinctively, I followed after him. If he was determined to be stubborn and go with Beatrix, then he wasn’t going to do it alone. He would have to deal with my protective presence as well.