Lighting Is The Only Way

SERGEI OCCUPIED WEEDYIANEAR HERENAEthan stumbled over yet another tree root. “Shit,” he muttered, almost dropping his spear. “Fucking goat tracks. We should build proper roads out here.”Beside him, Ostolaza snorted. “Nah. Waste of time.”“How d’you reckon?”“Because there’s nothing out here worth building a road to?”“That’s not true.” Ethan wiped away a bead of sweat as it ran down his nose. “And it’d make our lives easier at times like this, wouldn’t it?”“Times like this happen once a year, mate. Not worth the effort.”“Oh I dunno,” said Ethan, peering into the forest. Northern trees were something else. Harder than iron, knitted tighter than a shield wall, and with twisty little pathways and hidden alcoves that harboured all manner of threats. He shivered. And it was cold in the woods, too. Far colder than seemed natural. “Reckon some decent roads would improve things no end.”Ostolaza shrugged again. “Nah. Lot o’ work for no real gain.”“Well it wouldn’t hurt to thin all this

BETHELTHE UNIVERSITY OF GERICH ASSET RECOVERY TEAMEASTERN RENDEROSThey’d been trudging through the seemingly endless rocky knolls for a few weeks, but to Bethel it felt more like years. To say it was hard country was an understatement. He longed to see civilisation again, even if it came in the form of a few crude huts butted up against one another. Because as far as he could make out, that was about as civilised as Renderos got. Still, it was better than nothing.At least their journey hadn’t been without its highlights. They were travelling through a wild land unchanged by the passage of centuries. He couldn’t find half the villages they’d visited on any of his maps, and their inhabitants were fascinating, if backward. The great wide open in between was harsh, but it was also starkly beautiful. Everyone had marvelled, many times, at the mysterious flickering lights in the night sky that were neither stars nor meteors. And no one would ever forget the sweet, clear water from the s

ETHANSERGEI OCCUPIED WEEDYIAHERENAIt was dark in the barracks, and Ethan perched on his mattress, hoping that his comrades were asleep. He took a deep breath, then crept over to where Ostolaza lay snoring and put a hand under his pillow. It was a long while before his fingertips brushed against the man’s coin purse, during which he ran the gamut of fear, sorrow, disappointment, anger and joy.Fear, because he was terrified of being caught. Stealing from a fellow soldier carried a penalty of fifty lashes and branding with a hot iron. Few survived the ordeal.Sorrow, because Ostolaza would soon figure out who’d taken his money. They were friends, and the guilt would stay with him for a long time. Perhaps forever.Disappointment, because his behaviour was out of character. His mother hadn’t raised him to be a petty criminal, had she? Apparently, yes.Anger, because of what had happened in the forest. Nightmares troubled him ever since, and he was loath to spend another day in the comp