Helene rubs her calloused fingers across the asymmetrical scars that litter her skin. She takes your hand and strokes the bruises, already beginning to heal, her pressure is light, but just firm enough to provide you (and her) with enough emotional support to make it through the rest of the journey.

“We’re almost there.”

The caravan moves through a now warm village, what was once rolling through gravel and rocky terrain is now travelling across lush forest grounds and cobblestone paths with weeds sticking out between the stones.

Helene squints as the sun peaks out from under the tarp that covers the two of you from the harsh sunlight. The weather is more severe now. The rainy days, replaced by constant sun and overcast, now forgotten about. Usually for the two of you, hot weather brought along heatstroke and sunburns as the two of you spent your days in caves, wheeling wheelbarrows of mineral deposits to and fro. But, that’s all in the past.

“Look at that,” Helene stares at the villagers all carrying out their daily chores with smiles on their faces. Helene can’t help but smile back. “Can you believe it? We’re finally free. When it stop, we’ll find the nearest place to stay.”

Helene leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the caravan as she takes in the new warm atmosphere. You are not a slave anymore. It’s thanks to the Blackhole Incident that the two of you were able to escape and flee to a faraway village in southern Xolara.