For Ada and Henry it was a return, for Milton and Rennard a new place, but they emerged out of the tunnel unlocked by the Compass. Ada could feel the magical gateways and opened it herself, thus they left the Compass with Ester, not taking this key into their world back out. The population was terribly defenseless now.

Milton and Rennard ran up to the tarn, assessing surroundings, while Henry and Ada had a moment of remembering. Although they had not been under the mountains for long, that time was spent with the genuine fear of death, belief in how they might not see freedom and a spread of skies above them again. And to arise from that, they did with a newfound appreciation. Especially Ada, who with a visit to her old human perspective allowed her to enjoy the giant size again.

Ada was clad in what she’d descended into the tunnels with, the brown sleeveless dress reaching her knees and with the backpack slung behind her. The Richwood symbol was embroidered between the bosom. But to say Ada looked the same would be a lie. Now she was revitalized, eyes back to function, skin vivid and pale with the caramel sunburn effaced. Even her hair had a sheen to it, the shades of brown and yellow resplendent under the sunlight.

“How do you plan on taking us home?” Milton asked her.

“By walking there.” Ada explored her throat again with her fingers. “I no longer carry the offgiant’s mark. Pure giants can enter Humius. And you’ll be safer with me.”

“What do you plan on doing afterwards?” Henry said.

“I’m not sure.” Ada stared over the ridgelines. “I’m thinking of those islands Leeman mentioned, just off the coast to the southeast, where there’s rumors of offgiants fleeing to, where they’re free and build a life for themselves. That might be something to pursue. Come.” Ada kneeled, placing Henry on her left shoulder. She presented her palm to Milton and Rennard. They stepped on it, Ada giving them her right shoulder to share. They were not entirely comfortable like Henry, and only Henry asked Ada questions which concerned her own wellbeing.

With tufts of her hair for the boys to hold onto, Ada began the march. “A straight south is the plan, right?”

“Yes,” Rennard said.

“Once we get to Humius, we shouldn’t have any trouble making our way around.”

“Also, a new dress for me.” Ada patted the embroidery between her breasts. “This is the denomination for the lowest ranks. It would surprise some to see it on one without an offgiant’s rank. For the perceptive, I will draw attention. We don’t want attention.”

“Aren’t you all-powerful now?” Rennard said. “That goddess-character’s strength was something else. If you’ve inherited that, then it’ll take far more than average border guards to stop you.”

“You three aren’t the only ones concerned with a quiet leave.” Ada balled her hands together. “As much as I can feel this power, it is mysterious. I am a fledgling. A giant in Richwood clothing charging towards the border in a magical onslaught, that’ll get plenty of attention, and it won’t leave me alone.”

“To be fair,” Henry said, “they would treat you much better now. A pure giant, with unique, never-before-seen powers.”

“There’s a select few who know me there. They’ll wonder how I got rid of the mark, what’s happened. It’ll be riddled with suspicion. Even if I wanted to find allies in Gintessa, powerful ones even, I would be hopeful over that prospect.” Ada crested a hill, the step she took off it a pronounced kick, her teeth clenched. “But no. I don’t want allies who only care for my power, for what I can provide them. Damn these self-serving, walking mountains of arrogance.”

Rennard nodded solemnly. “Amen to that.” Ada tramped on a while longer. A calm stream prompted the suggestion of a short break before the journey ahead of them. There, as the three boys drank and spoke some, Ada felt a bit of hunger. Her mind went to the many fruits growing under those mountains.

Something pointy prickled her right foot, underneath the arch. She pulled her foot away, revealing a rough, wooden stalk. Even with her foot removed, she felt it, like an ethereal rope tied between it and this new sense she had. Ada contacted the rope, not letting go. With her attention thrown like a spotlight towards it, she strengthened its presence in her mind, and her attention was like nourishment. The stalk poked out, at first like a thin, wooden finger, but then the branches emerged from its increasing thickness, leaves unfurling.

“Woah.” The three boys turned, watching it pillar higher, and higher, and yet higher, beyond a normal tree, and amongst its branches, oranges grew in ample clusters. Just as the tree continued beyond the normal, so did the oranges, reaching the size of watermelons.

Another exclamation of awe from the boys brought Ada back. Having lost her concentration, she’d poured her attention on it, letting it get out of control. The orange tree froze, tall as Ada herself, the bunches of melon-sized oranges weighing its branches down.

“You meant to do that?” Milton called out.

“Uhm, sort of.”

“Well, lunch is sorted.” Using their base magics, they scaled the trees like monkeys and helped themselves to the oranges. Ada ate them as well, their small size compensated for by how plenty they were. They were ripe and luscious.

“Providing food like this,” Milton said between bites. “Its value cannot be measured.”

“Yeah.” Ada bit her lips, as nervous as she was excited. Many would be interested in her, in ways which might overlook her own wishes.

Everyone readied to move on, Ada seating them on her shoulders again. Rennard said, “Helga, she was interested in building a force under there. Nurture her own giants, then storm the world up here. She preached about her kindness, but I could feel the same old power-hungry, bloodthirsty bitch behind that visage.”

“She was calculative, despite her strength.”

“No wonder,” Henry said. “She perished with a punch in the right place. Funny how, despite all her cautiousness, she was arrogant in just the wrong time. She could have easily kept her forehead out of reach.”

Ada swiped her fingers over her forehead, watching her forearms. “I don’t know if it’s appeared the same way on me. I swallowed it.”

“That seems far better. No obvious weak point. Only downside is you didn’t get the whole thing.”

“I…” Ada smiled. “I can live with that. It would be an aristocrat’s entitlement not to.”

Their march continued for the rest of the day, Milton and Rennard recounting their encounter with the Charmer, the thirst and duress she put them under to ensure her charming magic worked, the outlandish experience of their bewitchment, to genuinely believe the Charmer was everything. Rennard was shyer with the details while Milton divulged the domination they endured.

They left the lush mountains and the sunrocks upon them, left the hilly landscape, and arrived at the fields. Henry and Ada could see the avenue they’d entered through, the property where the lady with her hurt child hollered for help, where they’d gone after the three mages.

Ada skirted the farmlands. A giant exited the village through a main pathway, checking her satchel and arranging several letters. A mailwoman. Ada approached her and asked directions, the quickest route to Humius, how long was left. She told them the quickest path southeast crossed emptier forests, taking less than two days, but outlaws were known to have taken residence thereabout. The one which went straight south took between two to three days for the mailwoman, but was safer. Grateful, Ada left her.

“Southern one, I’m assuming?” Ada said.

“Yes. We could make it faster too with you using my energy.”

Ada patted her thighs. “I feel fine so far. I think my constitution in general has seen a blanket improvement.”

Rennard watched the giant houses, the paths, the civilians ambling about. “It’s fine for us to just waltz around here?”

“Of course,” Ada said.

“Feels strange to see so many of them casually pass. Not one giant has turned out an ally so far.”

Ada cleared her throat.

Rennard had to concede. “Enemy turned ally, indeed. For once, it feels good to have the big legs walk for us.” They crossed the village through the concourse cutting across its middle. The idea of not drawing too much attention, of staying hidden, it dissolved halfway through as not many spared them more than a glance. Rennard and Milton understood how average they appeared to the rest, how few reasons there were to stop or even bother them.

Out the village, Henry suggested sprinting using his energy. The three boys held firm in the space between her rucksack and upper back, holding her dress, and Henry planted his palms on her, linking his stamina. Ada pulled the rucksack close to sandwich the boys against her back, then ensued her jog. Her feet pounded the unpaved road for over an hour until Henry called it. Milton and Rennard returned to her shoulders, while Henry lay on her palms, resting, enabling them to cover distance still.

“At this pace, we should make it across the border by tomorrow,” Milton said. “I still can’t believe it.” Ada marched all towards sunset. The residents at the next village provided them with water. Then they followed the path a way out and snook off by the roadside, finding a brief clearing under the tall birch trees. There Ada put the rucksack down, sighing.

“Henry, isn’t it your turn to tell us about your journey?” Milton asked.

And Henry did, detailing the bounty hunter he met right after Milton and Rennard were kidnapped, the encounter with the Charmer’s servant, the teleportation, the Richwood ‘hound’ that came after him… and then his details were elusive, scattered, and incohesive. He dodged questions.

Ada entered the conversation from where she sat against a tree. “He isn’t telling the truth. I wandered those mountains after you blasted my face, was found by Richwood people. One of their healers managed to salvage some of my sight, otherwise I would have been fully blind. I told them three humans from Humius had come and attacked me. I lied, made myself the victim, let their hounds use the scent of my pussy to locate Henry and bring him in. In the arena, I fought against Henry, won, and my prize was to receive him as a slave. He is officially my slave.”

Henry was abashed, seeing his friends processing the story.

Rennard said, “And in which part of this did you start becoming friends? How have you changed so much?”

“After that, our time together was pleasant. But I felt guilty, I knew all of it was built on actions I couldn’t defend, and truth be told, I had nothing. I was in no position to be charitable. That can explain, but not justify, the things I did. And when I became small, what terrified me the most of being a half-blind, magic-less human, was that I felt I could never repent. My humility would mean nothing, my good deeds would mean nothing, my kind words empty. Is she nice because she’s powerless? Those doubts would never end, it would seem false. But now I might be one of the most powerful giants, individually. Returning you home after I did what I did is the least I can do, and to be kind now, from this position, it is sincere. It means something. I apologize for everything.”

The somber tone overwhelmed them, unsure of how to respond at first. Milton and Rennard nodded to one another.

“At first, I put all my trust into Henry,” Milton said, pointing to his friend. “But if he were gone now, I would have no qualms trusting you. Don’t ask for an apology, you have more than made up.”