Jasper's Point of View

His aunt was alive.

His aunt was alive, and he had no idea how, or why she hadn't found them in the two years before everything had gone wrong. And why hadn't she killed him, knowing he was a liar and a traitor and a kin-killer.

At some point, through his shock, Jasper Merson realised that his men knew he had told his aunt to run. He realised that they were trying to trick him into a false sense of security, and if he slept, he would wake up in chains. Or not at all.

It was around this time when Jasper understood that he was out of options and out of time, and the only thing he could do was take his chances, his very low, very scary chances, and run.

He could not run to the rebels because he had betrayed them a thousand times over. The valkyries and elves would never take him. All of Kallias would be searching for him. He had seen the ruthless hunts-and brutal executions-for deserters before. The only place he could run to was the endless desert around him, and even then, they would eventually find him.

No one in the army had ever managed to desert before.

The only place he wouldn't be hunted was the Isthmus between North and South, but that was a wasteland, broken and ravaged. He could not stay in the northern Kallias or the Midlands. That left only the southern state, filled with criminals and insurgents. But to get there...it would be fastest to go north, where he could get a ship, and then head back in the other direction.

It was stupid, and suicidal. To enter that lawless place and try to scratch out a living. To try to wend his way through the highly guarded Northern State to get there. And yet... it was Jasper's only choice.He just had to find the right moment.

As the dusk came and kissed the hot desert sand, they were close to the fortress but not yet close enough, thanks to his own efforts to slow them down.

Jasper could feel the soldiers around him tense. If they had been in the army camp, he would already be dead, but his men knew that he would take out a couple of them before they captured him, so they were waiting for him to sleep. Yes, they would attack tonight, when he let his guard down. Which was why Jasper was taking first watch, mentally running through his plan. His pack was close by and he noticed that one soldier stayed awake as the others, scattered across the ground, drifted off to uneasy sleep.

This was expected; they were afraid that he would kill them when they slept and make a run for it. They were smart, but not smart enough.

He sifted his way through the packs of the other soldiers, taking as much food as he could carry with him, which amounted to a sword, a compass and a lighter. All he could take; anything else would be too heavy.

The solider tasked with keeping watch was pretending to sleep, with his eyes closed and him lying on the ground. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It would have been easier if the soldier had been some mindless brute, or a cruel noble's son. But Edvard had been a normal man, conscripted into the army and struggling to make it out alive and in one piece.

It was so simple to kill him, to snuff out the flame burning in his soul, without making a sound, and it was reflex to ignore the flicker of regret that came at his death.

He hurried to get out of sight of the camp, knowing that if they could still see him by the time dawn came, he would be dead. The packs he took with him only seemed to grow heavier as he climbed each passing sand dune, always going north, north.

By the third day, they still hadn't found him. Jasper knew that he should count that as a miracle and a blessing from whatever ancient gods Kallias had forgotten, but with his mouth parched and dry, and a constant hunger in his belly, he didn't think anything about this was lucky. He had no way of measuring how far he had come, he only knew that he had finally found his way from the true desert to a savannah.

Unfortunately he had barely taken any coins with him on the journey, and he cursed himself for it now because there was no way he could buy a horse or a night in an inn without enough money to be properly ringing in his pockets.

The nights in the deserts had been freezing and although he possessed a lighter, the sand certainly wouldn't burn so he was left curled up amongst his packs and a single scraggly blanket.

Of course when the morning came the sun would continue to blaze its heat down on him, and his little supply of water was quickly running out, more by evaporation than anything else.He would have travelled by night if it hadn't been too cold to risk losing heat.

Jasper still had no direction but the little arrow pointing north on the compass, and had long lost track of where he was. Slowly, as he became weaker and weaker from dehydration, he realised that it was not the army that was his enemy anymore, it was the desert itself. He was thin and weak, and starting to see mirages.

A couple of times, Jasper had almost collapsed from the heat. Part of it was the gruelling pace he had been setting, but he knew slowing down was risky: not only would it bring the army closer to him, but he would still need to eat and drink. It was midday on the third day when Jasper realised that if he did not find a town tomorrow, he would die.

The realisation came slowly, like water seeping through a leak. His mind had stopped fully functioning by then, but if it had been working Jasper would have been swarmed with thoughts of his not-so-dead aunt.

He reflected on his life bitterly, thinking of what he would leave behind. No one would remember him, or at least not kindly. He'd die in this desert, this endless mass of sand, and no one would know what had happened to him. His whole life had been spent on the run and afraid. The past two years had been nothing but bitter regret and betrayals. Just like two years ago, Jasper found himself seeing his own death: collapsing on the burning sand from heat exhaustion, and slipping into nothingness.

He had shivered and cried himself to sleep on the third night.

When he woke on the fourth day he considered simply waiting for his death to come and take him. He kept walking though, because he did not want to give in, and because lying curled up on the boiling sand was not doing him any good. The sunburn he had by now might be enough to kill him, even if he did find a village.

Step after step. Step after step. The world was beginning to blur. That was when he saw it. Barely a blur in the distance, but definitely there. In his muddled state, Jasper did not even stop to consider if the village ahead might be a mirage.

Forgetting his exhaustion, Jasper ran through the savannah, knowing only that it didn't matter if he didn't make it to the village, only that he made it close enough that the people there would see him.

He collapsed five feet from the town.

When he woke, he was lying on a hard bed in a cramped room and a small, strange man was looking down at him.

"You sleep a lot," he grumbled. Jasper blinked. Was he dead? This was a strange afterlife.

"I need to go-" he said quickly, then restarted. "I have money, and I can buy water and a map and leave."

"You're a deserter," the man said, watching him with inquisitive brown eyes.

"A deserter?" he sneered, acting for his life. "A deserter? Oh, please. You common worm.How dare you call a member of the Empress' Guard a deserter?" The man paled slightly, doubt flashing.

"You are nothing," Jasper hissed at him. "A mere ant at the feet of her Imperial Majesty. Scratching out a life in this burning miserable town. "

"Better than collapsing in the middle of a desert like a fool," the man shot back.

"You think that's what I did?"

"You were half-dead when we found you. And you're a burning liar, boy. What member of the Empress' Guard goes gallivanting around the desert unprepared?"

"One who was hunting," he said softly. "Hunting for something long hidden. You ask how I came to the desert? I came here searching for the elves that lay in wait beneath the sands. Killed all five of them and came here, half-alive."

"That's impossible. No humans stands against an elf and lives."

Jasper chuckled, lying more outrageously at every turn.

"Oh, I'm not human. Not human anymore, that is. The Empress turned me into something more." Burning suns, this was the most outrageous lie he had ever told. But the man now looked uncertain, doubting.

"I am far from human now," he smiled. "I have bathed in blood and slaughtered elves and valkyries alike. I have torn out the hearts of insurgents and deserters. I have ripped my way into cities and left them in ash. And I do not tolerate the questionings of mortal vermin. I was going to offer you money in exchange for your map and supplies, but now I'll just take them. Maybe your life as well."

Jasper pulled out a wicked-sharp dagger, knowing the threat of steel would convince this man more than proof-less words.

"Please, your greatness," the man said hurriedly. "I was...mistaken. Please let me give you everything you need."

"Tell me how to get to Cobalt," Jasper hissed, "and we'll see about your life."