Mason felt the surge of energy inside of her as the guards closed in. It was reaching for him, calling upon his own powers. Similar to the feeling he had had when she had fainted in the forest. He hadn't known what was wrong with her. She had been looking at him, her face a mirror of his own feelings, and he had looked away. 

He should have told her then, his longing to stay. How her father had told him to leave. How he had forbidden him to spend any more time with her. But he couldn't tell her. Not when he knew he couldn't bare to stay and look at her, every day, and remember what he had lost. So he had kept quiet and let her believe it was his own choice. And it had broken his heart. 

When she fell Mason had thrown out his arms on instinct, summoning a strong enough wind to ease her to the ground. In a wild daze he had closed the distance between them and thrown himself down on his knees, next to her. Making sure she was alright and her heart was still beating. Then he had felt it. At first he hadn't known what it was, the pulling on his power. He had looked up at the distant trees, tall and still in their presence, if it were hiding something. An unknown source of energy. But then he had realised it came from her. 

The power coming from Panema kept growing as the guard closest to her extended his hand. Mason knew they felt it too, but he still coughed, forcing them to turn around and face him. Dark shadows covered their faces and there was a strange look in their eyes as they met his gaze, but he didn't falter. Knowing that, if they touched her, she would not be able to control herself anymore. And neither would he. Eventually they turned around and, without as much as a backward glance, left the tent. Coldness filling the emptiness they left behind. 

Mason exhaled a long breath, and turned his attention towards the mattress next to him. He could still see the strain on Panema's face. Her mouth a thin line and her dark brows furrowed in concentration. Hair was sticking to her forehead, wet with perspiration. His jaws clenched as his gaze fell upon the dark circles around her eyes. 

'Panema?' He stayed where he was, unmoving. Afraid that if he got closer her energy would spike again. 

She opened her eyes, laying completely still as she took in her surroundings. He could see her tremble as she slowly sat up, moving gradually towards the edge of the mattress and placing her bare feet on the ground. Resting her head in her hands, she inhaled a few long breaths. 

'What was that?' she finally managed to ask, turning her face towards his. It came out as a whisper, small and fragile. So very much unlike her. His hands ached, wanting to move closer and comfort her. Instead, he pushed his hands through his hair.

'I don't know,' he said. He knew it was a bad answer, but he had nothing else to offer her. She held his gaze, and he thought he saw something harden in her eyes. Carefully she tried to stand up, still weak on her legs. He took a step forward, extending a hand, but she shook her head.

'I can do this,' she hissed through clenched teeth, wincing as she straightened her back and took a first step towards the opening of the tent. 

Mason watched her move, a wall already thorn up between them. He had rejected her when she was at her most vulnerable and that was something he knew she would not forgive. Their friendship, born when she was, had changed. 

She was almost at the opening, Mason still in the shadows behind her, when her grandmother burst in, her eyes wild and frizzy grey hair standing on end. For a second, everything went silent. Mason exchanged a quick glance with Panema, puzzlement written on her face, before her grandmother caught sight of Panema and she darted forward, grabbing her by the wrists and dragging her back to the mattress. Mason could see the pain in Panema's eyes, but she did not utter a word, her brows drawn as she looked at her grandmother. Mason took a step closer as her grandmother pulled Panema down onto the mattress. 

'Panema, listen very carefully now, dear,' Daya started, putting up her hand to silence the question clearly forming on Panema's lips. 'Your mother is with the guards right now, but she won't be able to buy us much time, so I need you to let me talk for now.' Seeing that Panema kept quiet, she continued, taking Panema's hands into her own and squeezing them tightly. She turned her head around briefly, taking in Mason's presence. A sad smile appeared on her face. He knew what it meant, had seen it many a time before. Without any objections he turned around and, in a few long strides, found himself outside of the tent. The feeling of Panema's eyes still burning on his back.

The air outside was thick with heat and sounds of the camp around him drifted along with the mild breeze, distracting him from the conversation taking place inside. He was standing at the edge of a small clearing, the rest of the round field being covered in tents in all sizes. Tall trees shielded them on all sides from any unwanted visitors and provided the much needed shade. It wasn't a big camp, nor where there many aircallers. Mason had always been fond of the small size of their tribe, many being much bigger. It was easier to move a small tribe, easier to protect against the strays who were known to hide in this part of the country. 

Mason turned around as a rustling next to him told him Panema had emerged from the tent. His brows rose as he saw her with a sack hanging from her shoulder. Fear took hold of his heart as she turned her face up towards his. There was something in her eyes he couldn't quite place, but it made his blood run cold. He tensed, wanting to touch her, but restraining himself.

'Don't ask,' she said, her voice hoarse, and without any explanation she turned around and walked away, across the field towards the woods. Leaving him, stranded with his own confusion. He watched her go, hair swaying with every step she took, and understood that she would not be coming back. Once she disappeared among the tents on the other side of the field, something broke in him. He couldn't just let her go like that. Not when she meant so much to him. 

He took a step forward, and then another, gaining speed as he crossed the field, following her. Flowing between the tents as a current of air as people rose from where they were sitting on the ground. He noticed that they were not looking at him, but instead at something in the opposite direction. He didn't care though. 

He sighed as his eyes fell upon Panema's head, hopping between the sails of the tents, making her way to the edge of the camp. He went faster, not wanting to lose sight of her. Zigzagging between the mass of people now walking in the opposite direction, holding him back as they pushed forward. A turmoil arose somewhere else in the camp, but he didn't falter. Finally he broke free and standing there, at the edge of the forest, was Panema. 

'Panema,' he breathed. She turned around, but he didn't give her a chance to reply. Closing the final distance between them he scooped her up in a tight hug, her scent making him dizzy, but he kept his ground. A smile formed on his lips as she hugged him back, her petite body pressed against his.

He put her back down on the ground, his arms still around her, and looked at her face, which now bore a small smile resembling his own. Her eyes meeting his, but filled with tears. She never cried, but he knew better than to ask what had happened. Instead, he raised his hand to her cheek, hovering lightly before he touched her. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. 

'I knew you would come,' she whispered, placing her own hand over his, keeping him there. 'But I have to go.' As fast as she had taken hold of him, she led go again. She took a few steps back until she was among the trees, little lights dancing over her body. She gave him one last smile before she turned around.

He watched her small form disappear, this time knowing he could not follow her. 

Mason was still standing there, his gaze fixed on the distant trees, as the growing noise of the camp caused him to turn around, eyebrows furrowed. Something was going on. Casting one last glance at the forest, he went back the way he came, speeding towards the commotion. 

He had no time to prepare himself for what he saw once he stood at the edge of the field, surrounded by his entire tribe. He understood now why some where afraid and others confused, as he took in the scene playing out before him. Panema's mother was standing in the middle of the field, hands raised, preventing the party in front of her from passing. Daya was standing next to her, feverishly talking to her daughter, but she gave no indication as to hearing her, her eyes fixed on the man on the black horse closest to her.

It was a large party. Mason saw six men on their horses, accompanied by the four guards who had been here since early this afternoon. They were all looking rather uncomfortable, but remained in line on the small field. Occasionally flicking their eyes towards the man sitting on the black mount in front of them, obviously the man in charge. 

Mason could see that he was still young, around his own age. Bronze hair neatly combed into place and piercing amber eyes surveying the tribe, not bothered by the women in front of him. Mason examined his uniform, a dark red pair of trousers tucked into black boots with a black coat on top, white gloved hands holding the reins of his horse. His eyes grew wide as his gaze fell upon the royal crest embroidered in gold on the man's chest and when he looked up, he was looking right into the eyes of the crown prince of Breadann. A hint of a smile appeared on the man's lips and Mason knew he had given Panema away to the one man who would be able to find her.

With one nod, everything was set into motion. 

The party raised their hands and roots shot from the earth. Mason had no time to raise his own hands before they were bound to his side and he was dragged to the ground, the sound of screams filling his head. He looked up, dark spots obstructing his vision, as the men started to move forward. 

The crown prince led the way through the chaos he had created, his focus on the forest beyond. Mason fought against the roots holding him, but they were too strong, cutting him whenever he twisted. 

He spat at the ground as the crown prince passed him, meeting his eyes. The prince only looked back, no emotion showing on his face. Mason twisted again, hissing as the vines cut through his flesh, but he could not break free. 

Defeated, he closed his eyes, resting his head on the ground as he heard the men move away. He inhaled the smell of grass and dirt as he lay there, his lips moving in silent prayer for Panema. Followed by a silent curse for the smell of the earth which had betrayed him.