Destan stayed behind in the forest after Nero fled. He panted heavily at the effort his magic had cost him. The pain in his arm came back tenfold, as the power in his body died down. He pressed his left hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding as much as he could.

Once he was sure Nero wouldn't come back after him, Destan turned and stumbled back to camp. It was a long walk back home, made even longer by the constant stinging and burning of his arm. The self-deprecating thoughts attacking his brain didn't help either.

He'd messed up. Truly and utterly messed up. Twice now he'd attacked an Inops and let them live to tell the tale. And it wasn't even for one of the Chief's tasks. The tribe only allowed violence when it was necessary for their survival. Destan's attacks had had nothing to do with survival. They were selfish, carried out solely for the purpose of making an impression on his sister. And what did it get him? He'd only pushed Julia even further away.

If the tribe found out... Destan would be in more trouble than he could even imagine. He'd be banished, kicked out into the wide world and left to fend for himself. He couldn't let that happen. The forest was all he knew. Where would he go? What would happen to his mum, if Destan left?

His only hope was that he'd made enough of an impression on Nero, so that the bastard wouldn't come back. If this was the last he'd see of him, maybe the tribe wouldn't find out. He'd just have to hide the wound on his arm, make sure nobody noticed. That shouldn't be too hard, considering nobody paid any attention to him.

As he neared the tribe, he slowed down and glanced around carefully. Some voices travelled through the air, but they seemed to be far enough away. Staying near trees, something to hide behind, Destan made his way to the edge of the forest. There, he stopped once more to survey the area and plan the best route to his home, so he wouldn't run into anyone.

"Destan!"

Scrap.

Keara's eyes widened as she came closer. "What have you done to your arm?" she exclaimed.

Glancing down to his right, he noticed that blood still pushed its way through the gaps between his fingers. He blinked. Was that why he felt so dizzy? On his right hand, dried blood had caked to his skin. Nero must've hit something important, if it kept bleeding like this.

"It's nothing," Destan mumbled. "A, uh... A wolf got to me. I was too slow."

Keara stared at him, her face contorting into a frown. "Right," she said eventually. "Well, let's get you to the Chief. He'll have healed it in seconds."

The words felt like a punch to the face. For a short moment he thought she was joking, but her face showed nothing but sincerity. "No." Destan turned away and walked off towards his home, hoping against hope that she might leave him alone.

Within seconds, her footsteps already followed him like a shadow. "What do you mean, no? That wound is serious, Destan!"

"It'll heal." He grimaced at his own words, as the pain stung relentlessly. "I'm an outcast, remember? I don't deserve to be healed."

"Well... You didn't before, when you didn't contribute to the tribe. But we have a task to complete tomorrow, Destan! How are we going to do that when you can only use one of your arms?"

Destan hesitated, but didn't stop walking. So that's why she's so concerned. I should've known, really.

"I'll be fine, Keara," he said, without looking back. "Chances are Elias won't let me help anyway."

That kept Keara silent until they reached his home. He'd planned on pulling the door shut behind him, but she was already inside before he had the chance. With an annoyed glance, he stepped back so she could shut the door.

The living room was silent, empty. His mum must've gone to bed today.

"This is a... lovely... home," Keara stuttered.

Destan scoffed. He knew his house was nothing compared to what most tribers had. Nothing compared to what he himself used to have, before his dad died. She probably only remarked on it to draw attention to how little he had. "We'll need to be quiet. Mum's asleep."

Lowering her voice, Keara said, "Look, let me at least help you bandage that. You can't do that with one arm."

Rummaging through his cupboard, Destan took his time to get the bandages, stalling while he thought of a reason to decline. When he couldn't come up with anything reasonable, he sighed. "Fine," he said, sitting down on his chair.

Keara sat down next to him and took the dressings, getting to work. The wound stung like hell every time she touched it, but it felt oddly soothing. Not the pain, but the way she was taking it away. It was almost as if she had the same powers as Remus, in that moment.

"Where did you learn to do this?" he said, just to fill the silence.

"My brother," said Keara, a smile making its way to her face. "He taught me. He taught me many things, actually. I don't know what I'd do without him."

A pang of envy stabbed Destan's heart. If only he and Julia were close like that. But that could never happen.

"Why are you doing this?" he muttered. "Why are you helping an outcast?"

The frown returned to her face, as Keara stood up to wet a washcloth. When she sat back down next to him, washing the blood from his arm, she answered, "Me and Elias... We are your one chance to stop being an outcast, aren't we?"

Destan nodded.

"When we failed last time..." She sighed. "I've realised that you're our one chance to not become outcasts. We can help each other. Me and Elias can't do it alone. We need you."

Destan hesitated, staring into her stormy blue eyes, trying to gauge whether she was sincere. Frustration overtook him when he realised he had no idea what sincerity looked like. "I want to help," he said. "I want to make this right. But there's no point in me getting in your way again. As long as Elias doesn't want me to help, and I'm not included in the plans, there's nothing I can do. Not without ruining it again."

Keara's frown deepened, deep creases gracing her face as a single strand of silver hair fell in front of her eyes. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, a knock on the door interrupted them.

Destan's jaw dropped. Everything was silent, until another knock resounded through the room. With an annoyed sigh, he jumped up, grabbed a jumper and threw it on to cover the wound on his arm.

When did I become so popular? Never before had there been two people visiting him in a single day. Let alone both at once. As Keara brought the bloodied washcloth, clothes and left-over bandages to the kitchen, Destan opened the door. On the other side stood Aruna.

"Oh, so you are home," she said stiffly. "You kept me waiting."

"Yes, I uh..." Destan turned around to gesture at something, realised he had no idea what he was gesturing at, and turned back to face her. "Sorry about that."

The older woman raised an eyebrow. "May I come in?"

Destan hadn't forgotten Keara in his kitchen. What would she think? Would she approve of Keara being in the outcast's house? Nobody else in the camp would, but Aruna seemed to have slightly different ideas. It didn't matter much, though, because there was no way he could refuse a request of someone as high-placed as Aruna.

"Of course," he said, stepping aside.

Without waiting for a further invitation, Aruna stepped inside and sat down on one of the chairs. "We both know you and your team screwed up. We need to talk about how you're going to fix that. This is your final chance, Destan."

"I know," Destan mumbled as he sat down opposite his trainer.

Something caught Aruna's eye and she turned towards the kitchen. "Oh. I didn't realise you were here," she said to Keara, her eyebrows raised.

Keara hopped from one foot to the other, staring nervously at the older woman. "Yeah... Sorry about that... I should probably go."

She was already halfway to the door when Aruna stopped her. "No. It's good that you're here. You can help us."

Keara's eyes darted to Destan and she cleared her throat. "Uh... Yeah, okay..."

"What were you here for, anyway?"

Destan's insides tightened when Keara glanced at his arm, the same one she'd just bandaged.

"Same as you, actually," said Keara. Destan nearly sighed with relief. "We can't fail again. I wanted to talk to Destan about how we're going to handle this."

Aruna nodded appreciatively. "I guess you've buried the hatchet then?"

Keara nodded, throwing Destan a dazzling smile that made him feel too queasy to respond in any way. Her bandaging his wounds was one thing. She only did that because she'd need him tomorrow. But smiling at him? That was new. And strange. And very, very awkward.

"What about Elias?" Aruna asked, snapping Destan back to reality. Elias still didn't want anything to do with him. It sucked, but at least Destan understood that.

Keara shook her head and Aruna huffed indignantly. "Elias needs to learn not to underestimate this boy," she said, gesturing to Destan. "A power like his is incredibly valuable, and Destan is good with it, too." She sighed her annoyance away. "No matter. I will talk to him later. Tell me, what have you already discussed?"

Destan and Keara glanced at each other awkwardly.

"Oh... Well, I only just got here," said Keara, one finger playing with a strand of hair by her ear. "But we were talking about how to make sure we don't get into the same situation as yesterday. He suggested that I should've made a hole in the lorry. But it's not that easy. Moving and rearranging the molecules of metal takes time. They're packed tightly together, so breaking them apart isn't easy. Moving metal objects, while they stay in their original shape, is much easier."

Destan barely managed to stop himself from raising his eyebrows at the blatant lie that he'd suggested anything. Keara didn't even blink.

"Ah, yes, it's important that you know the limits of each other's powers."

The two women stayed at Destan's cottage much longer than he cared for. Though he had to admit it was time well spent. At the end of the day, when they finally went home, Destan shut the door behind them with a strange, light feeling in his stomach. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to fix their mistake tomorrow.