A Long Day, The Dawn's First Light

Heavy night draped over the mountains and forest. Thin moonlight lit the mountain road. In the rugged woods, a group of six or seven warriors had not lit torches and were feeling their way forward through the dark. Each carried a small pack and leaned on a sturdy spear, trekking north with utmost caution.

"Are we just leaving like this?"

The group walked with heads down for quite a while before the youngest, Chipawa, finally could not hold back and asked softly.

Zukata tilted his ear, listening to the movements in the forest. He kept walking a while longer before answering in a low voice.

"What? Don't tell me you want to stay behind and surrender to the Mexica People?"

"No! How could I!"

Chipawa's eyes went wide. Zukata quickly made a gesture for silence, and he hurriedly lowered his voice again.

"The Mexica People destroyed my home and killed my father. I'll never surrender!"

"Mm. None of us will surrender. Then keep walking!"

Zukata nodded without stopping. He tilted his head and looked at Chipawa's profile. From this angle, the young Militia looked just like the person he had once sworn to protect with his life. Some distant, unforgettable memories surged into his heart, making him unable to help a soft sigh.

"Marshal Cuyus, I have wronged you. I failed to protect your son..."

Zukata's voice was very soft, and Chipawa did not hear it. Of course, even if he had, he would not have understood.

The meeting between the two of them seemed like chance, and also like a campfire tale told by a tribal sage. The Southern Legion had collapsed, and Chipawa had been dragged north by a band of routed soldiers, treated as food that could walk on its own.

When Zukata passed by with his