Black bushy beard, baby blue eyes, green murky hair. Christi realised in an instant who stood before her. It was none other than Kydin, the man they were hunting. Igniting her arm, Christi readied herself to fight. Before she could make a move, Kydin shoved the girl to the ground. His blade poked her throat. After another three seconds, Christi’s arm finally alighted.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Christi screamed in her mind.
Kydin whistled as he studied the arm.
“Never seen anything like that before. Impressive. For all it’s merit however, a tool that can’t be drawn right away isn’t a weapon. It’s a liability.”
Kydin shifted his focus to Christi’s bloodied open palmed right hand, noticing the flame shaped pendant within. He cocked an eyebrow,
“Is that…? Did you kill Korill?”
‘Fuck! It can’t end like this. No!’ Mustering all her strength, Christi squirmed but Kydin’s boot refused to waver. Then to her surprise, Christi felt the pressure relent. Kydin’s sword retracted into a dagger, and he sheathed his blade.
A smile sprang to his face,
“Well done child, Korill was a mighty warrior. I applaud your strength.”
Kydin perched himself beside the fire. Christi kept her arm alight, ready to strike at any moment. Yet she found herself staying an attack.
“Relax child, I’m not here to fight. In fact ,with what I’ve just learned, I’d much rather talk.”
The wind howled around the cave, and the fire burned quietly. Christi glared at Kydin. It was strange, this man was her enemy yet she felt a kinship to him. She hadn’t once considered her ignition startup time would be a liability.
“What do you wanna talk about then?” Christi warily asked.
“For starters I’d like to learn how you bested Korill. Even among all my men he was exceptional.” The man paused, he rubbed his beard, pondering.
“And?” Christi poked
Kydin smirked at her, he rested his palms on his knees.
“Well to put it bluntly, child you are not, so how did you defeat him? A clever trick? Perhaps a latent power that only activates in a crisis?”
Outside the waves crashed, roaring amidst the storm.
“I caught him by surprise, for a moment I was strong then I wasn’t” she said quietly her voice trailing as she mentioned her fleeting strength.
Christi dropped her head and pulled her knees closer.
“Are you referring to attunement?” Kydin’s voice broke the silence.
Christi raised her head. The term piqued her interest.
“I’m surprised child, that’s a new sensation for you? Surely Piotr Henlein would have taught you the basics?”
“He didn’t, he taught me to prioritise affinity usage.”
“You see that’s where he’s wrong, you’re Fheitgr. Attunement is the foundation for our strength. Without it, we’re no different than those here in Anriel.”
Kydin poked the fire, he smiled as the fire soared up.
“You know I could teach you the basics if you’d like and how to maintain it.”
Christi’s head perked up. She held the man’s gaze.
“What’s the catch?” she probed.
Kydin held his hands up, he chuckled.
“No catch, I merely wish to aid my fellow Fheitgr.”
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Christi thought of his offer. He was right about her arm, could he actually grant her the strength she sought?
Kydin stood, he gathered himself and regarded Christi.
“Well I think that about concludes our chat, think on what I said child. Perhaps we’ll talk again soon.”
Draping his hood he left, braving the storm. Christi lifted her prosthetic arm, imagining the explosion of power she felt before. She returned to observing the crashing waves outside.
“Christi! Christi!” pierced the mist of rainfall that hailed down fiercely upon the golden hued sands of Carra Beach.
Ratchet held his arms in front of him shielding himself from the torrent of rain that soaked his figure. With each strained step he felt his strength waning. The bitter chill began to seep in, he needed to find Christi soon. Having spent the better part of the last half hour unsheltered in harsh conditions Ratchet knew the longer he spent out here, the likelihood of him getting sick would increase.
A vast gust of wind staggered his progress forward, he pitched back, almost stumbling but he stood strong. Unlike his thickset body Ratchet’s grey hair was not resistant to the wind, it whipped back from his forehead, lank and drenched.
Suddenly Ratchet felt a firm hand upon his shoulder. Turning to discover the source he found his answer in a short and robust man, who held his ground. Dangling from the stranger’s obscured face was a raven black beard. A thought of familiarity entered Ratchet’s mind but he was unable to place his finger on what was now eluding him. Outstretching his arm, the stranger pointed ahead.
“Continue forward, seek the light along the shore amidst a cavern. There dwells the girl you are seeking!”
Before Ratchet could question the stranger on his identity or how he knew where Christi was, the man vanished. The tempestuous blanket of mist and rain consumed the figure of the stranger. Steeling himself Ratchet decided to trust the stranger, and steadfast in his goal he trudged forward.
Turquoise hooked limbs scurried amidst the creamy plethora of stones at the foot of the cave. Pausing for a moment the Laacrab eyed the swaying fire deeper inside. Landing wings sprawled, a large Tetch plucked the Laacrab up, flipped it onto its soft underbelly and began feasting. Christi watched nature take its course.
The large Tetch squawked shrilly upon finishing its meal. With a flap of its feathered brown wings the Tetch departed the cave gliding upon the howling wind. A crunch of trodden stones alerted Christi, had Kydin returned?
Ratchet rounded the side of the cave’s entrance. He opened his mouth before shutting it again, what was he to say? Pulling her knees closer Christi nestled her head. Ratchet entered the cave, he sat himself adjacent to Christi hugging the wall. The fire crackled and spit, both Christi and Ratchet remained silent, both unsure of what to say.
“Ratchet?”
“Yeah kid?”
“I miss him.”
The shimmer of the dancing fire reflected in Ratchet’s tired eyes. The image of Christi, Ratchet and Alex sat in their garage in Chrodrift filled his mind. Christi's laughter and Alex's smile, now a forgotten thought.
“Yeah me too kid, me too.”
Sat comfortably atop a maroon leather bench opposite to his faithful companion beneath a cedarwood banner adorned with the family crests of Barakat, drank Piotr and Sam. The two enjoyed the simplicity of a hearty tavern such as this. The Grange Tavern was the name of this establishment and upon this evening the place was bustling with music and excitement alike.
Sam observed a young couple delighting in the local dance known as the Ceili.
“It’s nice to see people can still enjoy themselves even amidst all the recent turmoil,” spoke Sam.
“Indeed I only wish we could partake, though I’m not so sure our company would be wholly welcomed,” Piotr said.
Hunched over a nearby table sipping on their libations was a group of dockhands who had been casting daggers in Piotr and Sam’s direction since their arrival. Piotr sighed and leaned back.
“I must confide in you my friend, I’m not too sold on this plan Adriana is concocting. It’s too…”
“Reckless for your liking?” Sam tittered,
“I must say it’s quite humorous to see how much you’ve changed since you were a boy. Once upon a time you would’ve liked nothing more than to storm an encampment full of bandits so as to boast your affinity.”
“Well I suppose I’ve mellowed out with age,” Piotr chuckled.
“Oh please Piotr. You’re twenty eight, not sixty,” Sam took a swig from his mug.
Using his own personal handkerchief embroidered with his initials, he wiped away a swathe of foam around his mouth.
“I concur but it’s as you said earlier, we simply have no choice at the moment. Right now we need only focus on what we can do.”
Piotr breath a sigh of relief and relaxed,
“I envy your frame of mind. Here I sit, flooding my mind with hypotheticals while you’re quietly enjoying a tavern ale.”
Sam raised his mug feigning a toast,
“And might I add a painfully average ale at that.”
The two laughed, and the door to the tavern opened. Striding in was Abraham Samuels. Spotting the two in his peripheral, he beelined for the pair.
“Well, what do we have here? The mighty Piotr Henlein and his lovely assistant,” he smirked.
“Why if I had known we were to be joined by such esteemed company I would’ve ordered something more lavish for the table,” Piotr addressed Abraham.
“No need I’m a man of the people, such gifts don’t fit my image. To be sorely frank with you boys I’m not a fan of aligning with you, but Adriana insisted and well I’d be a fool to deny her.”
Grabbing Sam’s mug of ale, Abraham gulped down the cup’s contents.
“Ahhh refreshing, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you boys around, I expect great things from you. Maybe you Pioneers will do right by this town for once.”
With a forceful slam of the mug Abraham flashed a wicked smile and retreated to the table of dockhands.
“Well that was pleasant,” Sam softly spoke.
Piotr turned, casting a glance at Abraham who laughed and joked with the dockhands.
“Their anger towards us isn’t totally unjustified, Brand’s death here twenty years ago created a lot of division here when it comes to the Pioneers," Piotr uttered.
Sam sat back, he grasped the pitcher of ale and poured himself another drink. White foam stilled at the cup’s mouth.
“Brand’s death was not an easy one for all parties involved. They may detest us for that decision but Brand couldn’t go unpunished. The man took an incredible risk, one that could’ve doomed all of Anriel," Sam finished as drained his mug.
“Shall we be going then Piotr?”
Piotr lay his gloved hands on the table,
“Let’s stay a while more, it’s good for the locals to see us mingling.”
Sam smiled and stood up grabbing ahold of his pitcher.
“Delightful, then if you don’t mind I’m going to grab myself a refill. Abraham’s fiery personality has left this well quite dry.”
“Indulge yourself my friend, you’ve earned it," Piotr laughed.
Later that night Piotr carried Sam back to the inn. Soundly snoozing, the pair walked through the quiet streets of Barakat. For all the panic the day before, there were those who still took to the streets at night. Guardsmen and Finders patrolled routinely, attempting to sniff out any Fheitgr activity. While they’d prove no match for the warriors, their presence helped deter outright attacks.
Stepping out from an alleyway to his right, Christi and Ratchet appeared. Christi averted Piotr’s gaze.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Ratchet.
“Overindulgence I’m afraid,” chuckled Piotr.
“Oh for fucks sake, here let me help you.”
Ratchet wrapped Sam’s arm around his broad shoulder. Piotr turned to Christi.
“It’s good to see you safe Christi, welcome back.”
“Yeah,” she responded quietly. The group pressed forward into Barakat, beneath the starry blue night sky.