I open my eyes.

A rickety wall presses in on my right side, the ceiling flapping, holes revealing slivers of sunlight. I groan, my body heavy and bruised. I try and raise my arm, but the thick blanket draped over me does not permit it. My head rests back, the pillow beneath me warm and inviting. But I don’t let sleep take me. I can tell by the way my body feels that I’ve been asleep for too long already. Twisting, I manage to pop a leg free. I’m still wrestling with the blanket when a flap rises in the corner.

“Thank goodness.” A shape moves to my side. “I thought you may never wake.”

“Mr. Oliver?” I say, my throat dry as the sand outside my village.

“It’s me my little friend.” He reaches behind him and drags something across the floor. He lowers with a groan, each movement a struggle.

“Are you alright?” I ask, wiping the crust of sleep from my eyes.

He laughs. “Dear boy you needn’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

But he doesn’t look fine. His skin is pale and withered, his eyes circled by dark rings. “How long was I asleep?”

Mr. Oliver frowns. “Two days,” he says. “We brought you in here after you collapsed. Olivia has been tending to you.”

“Where is my mother? Kyna?” I twist, my strength slowly returning.

“Your sister is with Finnly and Davos down by the gate. They’ve got a tent set up there and are waiting to hear back from your mother.”

“She’s not with them?”

He shakes his head. “She’s somewhere inside the city. Took her a day of begging to be allowed to send a message through. Then someone came and fetched her. I surmise she is with her brother now trying to secure lodging for the rest of you.”

I rest on my elbow, my feet sliding to the floor. “I have to be with them.” But Mr. Oliver grabs me by the shoulders and gently pushes me back.

“You need more rest,” he says, reaching into his satchel. “Drink this.”

I take the water skin and give the opening a quick sniff. “What is this?”

“Water and bloodleaf. It will hasten your recovery.”

I’ve never heard of bloodleaf before, but I waste no time gulping down the sour water. Wiping my mouth, I hand the skin back to Mir. Oliver and again go to rise.

“Ah, the child wakes.” The old woman says, striding into the room. “See Oliver, I told you it would only be a matter of time.”

“Even by your best estimates, he is awake early.” Mr. Oliver turns, anger streaking his face. “Need I remind you, Olivia, that he is only like this because of your meddling.”

“It was to save your life, little brother. Even if it’s a life you keep trying to throw away.”

I sit up, arms and legs groaning. “She’s your sister?”

“He doesn’t like to claim me,” Oliva says, leaning against the wall.

“We’re twins yet she turned out rather rotten,” Mr. Oliver replies, his brow drawing further down.

“Still, you’re all the family I have left and that means you’re stuck with the living.” She smiles, her gums showing in her toothless mouth.

“She’s right,” I say. “About being stuck with the living.” I’d been so scared when I saw him fall. Thought maybe he was about to be another person I would lose forever. But he’s still breathing, and I will never be sorry for that.

“You could have died,” he says, glaring at me. “Should have died. It’s a miracle you’re still with us.”

“A miracle? Believing in gods now are we little brother?” Olivia bounces off the wall, her hands on her hips. “It’s not a miracle. The boy’s gifted. Resilient. We could use him for what’s coming.”

“Please just shut up and leave us. There are things I must discuss with the boy. Alone.” Mr. Oliver’s voice is harsh, each word spoken clearly.

Olivia turns her chin up. “I’ll be in our tent preparing.” She looks at me appraisingly, then lifts the flap and disappears.

Mr. Oliver sighs. “You should not have listened to her.”

“You would have died.”

“Most likely.” He shifts on his stool, hands cupped together. “But you’re young, Luther. Have a full life to lead. I’m an old man weighed down by regrets. The world would not miss me.”

“I would miss you.” I say, finally able to move freely. “And Kyna, and Mother. Plenty of people would miss you.” I stand. “What, just because you’re old it’s okay to die like that?” Those thugs would have killed someone, I’m sure of it. What Mr. Oliver did saved us.

“Words might have done better with those men. I escalated things when I used my powers and now you’ve Bladorian blood on your hands.”

“He was coming after you!” I clench my fists.

“That man was no threat.” Mr. Oliver rises to his feet. “Even if he was, a boy your age shouldn’t kill someone like that.’

“Is it because he was Bladorian?” I wave at the ramshackle structure glancing at the roof made of stitched cloth. “I’m starting to realize we aren’t all one people.” Yulen flashes through my mind, him and the other farm owners. They could have just paid our way through. But they didn’t. They got themselves through or stood by while other people got in harm’s way. They’re scum.

“It’s not because he was Bladorian,” Mr. Oliver’s voice raises, a vein pulsing on his temple. “It was that you killed him without hesitation. Jabbed that dagger into his throat without thinking about it.”

“My body moved on its own.” It’s true. It wasn’t until I felt the blood well up on my fingers that I realized what I’d done. “But I don’t regret it. You, Davos, Mr. Finnly, all the good villagers of Hylek. I would have done the same for any of them and I will do so again.”

Mr. Oliver settles back onto his stool, his head resting in his hand. “This world and its endless cruelties.” He looks up at me, his eyes wet. “You were such an innocent boy not so long ago. But you’re set on your path now. I thought maybe I could turn you away from it, but there is a darkness about you. I thought it originated from that dammed obelisk you swore an oath to, but I think it was already there. You’ve just given it sharper purpose.”

I look down at him, heart racing, the massacre of the village playing in my mind. “What else am I supposed to do?” I fight the tears back, but one slips through, wetting my cheek and falling to the floor. “Accept what happened? Go about like my father, brother, and all the others weren’t killed?” I wipe the wet from my eyes, but the torrent doesn’t stop. I ease back onto the bed, my heart cracking little by little. “They’re gone, but I’m not.” Sobs wrack my shoulders and I smash my fist into my cheek to beat them back. Weak. Weak. Weak.

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Arms fold around me, pulling me into a warm embrace. “You’re not supposed to do anything. You are a child forced by circumstance to see things no child ever should. It is the world itself that has wronged you, and there is nothing you can do to change what has happened.” He pulls back, wiping away my tears with the stained sleeve of his robe. “But you can choose how to move forward. Your life is not already decided. Perhaps in Isren you can find purpose beyond bloodshed.”

I look up at him, eyes blurry. “Maybe.”

“Sometimes maybe is good enough.” He picks me up with a grunt and places me back on the bed. “But there are other things we must discuss.” He looks to the floor, his shoulders sagging. “I am leaving.”

“What?”

“I was only staying long enough to see you wake. Now that you have, I must be off.”

“But why?” My eyes wet again but I manage to keep the tears at bay.

“I have friends who need me. I’m sorry, I never meant to leave you so soon.”

“But I need you.” I tug on his sleeve. “What about me? What about my training?”

“It will have to wait.” He pulls his arm away from me. “My friends and I have very old, very powerful enemies. Enemies that never leave the shadows. But they walk the lands making deals, starting wars. We must discover why.”

“But…” My voice trails off. “What if I went with you?”

Mr. Oliver shakes his head, his eyes glistening. “I’m so sorry, dear friend. But this is a journey best left to old men and their regrets.” He rests his back on the wall, his face somehow growing paler. “And your mother and sister still need you. Isren will be a fresh start, one that I wouldn’t see wasted on the likes of me.”

I spend a moment just looking at him. Not long ago I only knew him as the strange old man who lived outside the village. But in such a short time he’s grown so close to me it’s as if he was always there. But if he must go, then I will not hold him back.

“Will I ever see you again?” I ask, wiping my eyes.

“Perhaps, if fate wills it.” He reaches down and collects his satchel from the floor. Once it’s secured to his shoulder, he reaches within and pulls a book out. I recognize it as the only one he took from his cabin. “Here,” he says, striding across the room and handing it to me. “I know you still have some learning to do before you can read the whole thing, but I want you to have this.”

I take the purple tome in hand and run my fingers across the strange letters on the cover. “What does this say?”

Mr. Oliver smiles. “The cover is written in Old Zandalor. It translates to The Fall.”

“The Fall?”

“An old legend,” he says. “Of a dead god and a world drowned in blood. But there’s some truth to it. And there are instructions within on how to strengthen one’s gate.” He taps his chest. “I fear a certain battle of mine some years past ruined mine beyond repair. But yours is sturdier than most. The techniques within will serve you well. But you must promise me one thing.”

“What?” I ask, holding the tome close to my chest.

“That you will give this new life a chance.”

“I don’t know if I can…” I can still smell the smoke and ash, still feel the heat of the flames. “But I will try.”

“That is all I ask.” He turns on his heels. “Well then, I must be off. Olivia is ever the impatient one. Until we meet again, my dearest friend.”

“Until we meet again.”

He nods and offers one last smile before he disappears. I wat until I can’t hear his footfalls to start crying. This time I don’t try and stop the tears. I hold the blanket up to my face as I sob, my whole body shaking.

“I promise I’ll try,” I say into the silence. “I promise.”

*

I find Kyna and Davos outside. Kyna runs up to me and wraps her arms around my waist. Davos watches from a distance, but he’s smiling.

“Ms. Oliva told me you were awake,” she says. “But she made us wait outside.”

I tussle her hair. “Did you see Mr. Oliver?”

“I did!” She smiles so brightly it washes away my sadness. “He said he’d be gone a long time, but we’d see each other again.” Then she puffs out her cheeks and frowns. “Then he told me not to be a troublemaker.” She sticks her tongue out.

“Sound advice,” Davos says as he lays a firm hand on my shoulder. “I knew you’d be up soon.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Yeah. With how you were snoring, I figured someone would beat you awake eventually.”

I push him back and give him a soft punch on the arm. “Where’s your father?”

“Where do you think.” Davos looks to the dirt.

Kyna pokes me in the chest. “What’s that?” she asks, eyes on the tome.

“It’s a gift from Mr. Oliver.” With the way Kyna frowns, I realize he didn’t give her a gift before he departed. “It’s for both of us.” Her smile returns.

“I’ll have to play with it later. We’re supposed to take you to Mr. Finnly and wait for Mother.” Kyna says, taking my hand.

“Alright, lets go.”

She leads me through a maze of tents down a muddy path that snakes through the encampment. Smells of all kinds hit me as we go—sweat, cooked meat, pig shit, and a host of other scents I can’t place. And there are so many people, more than I’ve ever seen. Children, the elderly, burly men covered in tattoos. The writhing mass starts to make me dizzy and I have to watch my feet to keep from being overwhelmed.

Eventually the great stone walls of Isren loom ahead. I can see men patrolling the walls above, little black shapes that stand against the midday sun. There are less tents here, the path joining a paved road. Men wearing armor walk here and there, some on horseback barking orders to the others.

We reach a white tent near the gate, three people standing outside it.

“Mother!” When I see her my legs fill with lighting and I let go of Kyna’s hand. She turns, her face parted by a week smile. She leans down and we embrace. Her lips peck my cheek, and she looks down at me. Her face is worn, dark rings under her eyes.

“This is him?” A man says from behind mother.

He wears clothes of the kind I’ve never seen. His shirt is puffy on the shoulders and is orange on one side and red on the other. His legs are covered in white cloth, his shoes are black but shiny, little gold buckles on them.

“This is him,” Mother says.

“Barrigan, it seems your services will not be required,” the strangely dressed man says to a guard some distance behind him.

“We thought we’d have to carry you,” Mother says, Kyna hugging her leg.

“And what did he say?” Mr. Finnly hobbles out from the tent, his bandaged leg slit by an ugly smear.

Mother’s face cracks for a second, then her features harden. “He says he only has room for the three of us.” She grabs me by the collar and pulls me in tight.

Davos’ mouth falls open. “But you promised me—”

“I’m sorry,” she says, holding me close. “But we’re the only ones getting in.”

Davos takes a hasty step forward, but the sound of drawn steel stops him. Barrigan steps between us, a longsword in his hand.

“My master is already being generous letting…these people into his household. The rest of you will just have to make do out here.”

“Kessa,” Mr. Finnly mumbles. “You’re just going to leave us out here?”

“I have no other choice.” Mother takes a back step, dragging me with her.

“You’re a liar,” Davos says, dirt smeared cheeks cut through by tears. “We won’t last out here.”

I try and fight mother’s grip but it’s too tight. “Let me go!” I thrash, giving myself just enough space to break free. “I’m not going without Davos. Or Mr. Finnly or the other villagers.” I try and look into mother’s eyes, but she won’t look at me. “We’re all family. Either we all go, or none of us.”

Kyna cries into mother’s skirt, probably not understanding what’s happening. But I won’t go without the others. We made it here together and we all deserve to be safe within Isren’s walls.

“Mr. Barrigan it appears your services are indeed required,” the well-dressed man says, taking a step back.

There’s a dark shape to my left. I turn but something strikes me, my eyes flashing white. My head hits the ground and then I feel myself being lifted. Shouts ring out but I can't make out the words.

I try to squirm free of whatever holds me, but my body is so heavy. The last thing I see before it all fades away is Davos' face, a great gate falling between us.