Chapter 4
The Smoke
Despite the country covering the entirety of the continent named Cordis, Terrill knew that by horseback, it would only take a grand total of four days to reach their destination.
Rather, that’s what he would have thought before he made an unfortunate realization not long after their departure from Carth: Krysta had absolutely no clue how to ride a horse. When she was nearly bucked off the horse, it was made plain, and they had to spend at least a half hour waiting for her to get the horse to calm down. Terrill snickered the entire time.
“Hey, it is not my fault animals don’t like me!” the young woman whined, an almost adorable pout creasing her face. She was trying to mount the horse once again, but it was having none of it, nearly kicking her before she backed off. She sent a glare at it, but the horse just ate some of the grass in response. “I’ve never really needed to use one. How did you get decent?”
“I hardly am. Come on…” Terrill offered his hand to the girl. She was loathe to take it, that much was obvious. The glint in her eye communicated that she wanted to do this all on her own, but when the skittish horse threatened to bolt, Krysta relented. She took hold of his hand, allowing him to lift her up and on the horse behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection. His own horse whinnied, uncomfortable with the extra weight, or perhaps just the woman behind him, but Terrill stroked him until he calmed. With another deft move, Terrill made sure to bring the other horse close so it wouldn’t run off, even without its unwanted passenger.
Once all was set, Terrill set his horse into a gallop once more. This time, they began to make some actual good distance from Carth, towards the mountains that formed the spine of the continent. Krysta couldn’t stop herself from talking.
“So, what do you think you’ll find in Sayn?”
“I have no idea, but that woman is a troublesome one, and she was there when I lost track of Lumen and Charles…and Atrum…” Krysta poked her head around, and even without looking, Terrill could tell that she had a great many questions to ask him, but refrained from doing so. “You’re sure about what you said, Krysta? About Golbrucht just being some bedtime story? There are no such things as Chosen Ones or Guardians? Because you acted like you knew them before.”
“Er…I was humoring you. You did have a nasty gash on your leg,” she admitted. The wind was whipping in both of their ears the faster they rode, and Terrill soon saw a bridge approaching that crossed over the country’s major river, spilling towards the sea. Krysta’s voice rose as she continued speaking. “Though, now that I think about it, where did you get that gash from? Doesn’t seem like the monsters gave it to you.”
Terrill’s lips creased downward, and he tilted his head back. “I’m not crazy. Whatever I felt or experienced was real, and that woman is the one thing that ties everything I know with everything you’re telling me is a lie.”
“Hmmm…” The hum was contemplative to Terrill, but as their horses thundered onto the stone bridge, passing by a caravan of merchants, he didn’t pay her any mind. In fact, Krysta never spoke again until the sun was beginning to set and the two decided to make camp underneath a pine to shelter them from the clouds forming over the sky. Once the campfire was set and the horses were tethered to the tree, she finally voiced whatever thoughts had been fomenting in her head over the hours. “What about your hometown? Have you thought about asking there?”
Terrill, who had been resting his eyes, cracked one open at that suggestion. That same cloying pressure upon his chest made him swallow; he may not have been sure if he could trust his own memories, but he could certainly remember Atrum, and the memories they shared of their home. He provided no response, his singular eye staring at Krysta through the crackling flames.
“Sorry. It was a stupid suggestion. I’m sure you already thought of it,” she recanted, leaning back on her hands.
Terrill, on the other hand, brought his hands forward into his lap, intertwining his fingers as he quietly mulled over Krysta’s latest suggestion. The noise of the night attempted to intercede on his thoughts, and the howls of wolves, be they monstrous or natural, threatened to steal them both from sleep, but before the fire had burned itself out, he had reached a decision. Knowing neither of them could dare to get any sleep before he voiced it, Terrill shared it with Krysta. “We’ll deliver our extra horse to Hart tomorrow morning, but I’m not going in the village.”
“Afraid of what you’ll find out?” Her question was a prudent one, but not his foremost concern; not with Atrum’s expression seared into his mind.
“No. I just made a promise,” Terrill said. “When I became a Guardian, I promised that no matter what, anyone I was tasked to defend on the road would make it home. I can’t do that without Atrum, and I’ll hate myself if I go home while Lumen and Charles are out there. I thought about it when I was directionless, but now it wouldn’t be right.”
“How noble.” Terrill wasn’t sure if she was mocking him, chastising him, praising him or all three at once.
“Noble or not, it’s what I promised myself and the elder. I won’t let anyone else die.”
“Anyone else?”
Terrill saw no further need to continue the conversation. He turned his body away as best as he could and closed his eyes. “Get some sleep.”
Neither spoke any more during the remainder of the night.
When morning came, the fire was naught but cinders and rain was falling, though the duo and their horses remained safe beneath the boughs of pine. Not that they had any choice but to continue on, despite the horses’ misgivings.
To their relief, the rain cleared by mid-morning, just about the time that they were passing by the valley which led to the country’s biggest monastery (outside the capital) and Terrill saw the familiar formation of mountains that surrounded his hometown. He began to slow their horses soon after passing that holy ground, the dirt path that led deeper into the heart of the continent turning familiar to him. Not long after, the pair pointed out the wooden sign that was planted at the crossroad, and it was here that Terrill came to a full stop, dismounting from the horse and coming to stand at the intersection. Krysta joined him, traveling a bit down the road and covering her eyes with her hand, pretending it allowed her to see a farther distance.
“Looks like a quiet, quaint town. You sure you don’t want to stop in?”
“Krysta…” Terrill said, a hint of growl in his voice. She laughed, and chose to climb up a nearby rock, hoping it would get her a clearer view of the small town. Terrill had no desire to check on his town; the mountains were enough of a fortified defense to know the people were safe. Whether Golbrucht was a delusion or not, the truth was that even in said delusion, he’d been defeated. Instead, Terrill made his way to the familiar signpost.
It wasn’t much more than a wooden pole with extra planks attached to it, pointing the way towards the monastery to the south, with Winthrop and the capital up north. The post had seen damage over the years, as well, making it appear even less elegant than perhaps it had ever been. Seeing it again brought Terrill a rush of familiar feelings, though, and he bent down next to it to examine its surface with all its nicks and scratches. Most of all, he looked towards the back, for the marking he’d made the year prior, when he had first become a Guardian and made his promise to bring his Chosen One back alive. It was, in some respect, his most important memory, and one Terrill wanted to relive, just to make all of this feel less like a dream.
His fingers ran down the length of the signpost…and found nothing.
Terrill’s breath shortened, and he tried to see if he had just passed over the marking, but still found nothing but the standard wear-and-tear of the ages. Off to the side, he could still see Krysta peering in Hart’s direction while the horses eyed her in suspicion. She didn’t detect that Terrill had found something disturbing, and he preferred that. Making sure to stay silent, he shuffled a bit around the signpost so that he could get eyes on the backside where he remembered making his mark.
It became clearer than ever that it wasn’t there.
As if by magnetism, his eyes were drawn to his sword, and his brow furrowed with deep thought. His sword was real, and he had that all-too-distinct memory of carving that notch with the very blade on his back. The signpost showed no sign of it in any regard, as if all his existence had been utterly erased.
Or were all of us erased? came the unbidden thought. Krysta had never heard of Lumen, despite his connections with the royal family and status as the Chosen One. Now, something he very much remembered doing was suddenly gone. What happened during that battle? Some sort of time nonsense? It would definitely explain how Golbrucht comes back every time… Or is it something else? Am I in a dream?
His latest thought was disproven by a poke on his shoulder. When he turned his head, his eyes locked with those of Krysta’s, their clear surface reflecting his face as she tilted her head with curiosity.
“Something on your mind?”
“Not particularly,” he lied. Rather, he felt he didn’t want to give any credence to the possibility his delusions about Golbrucht were just that. He had to focus on what he could do, and in that moment, it meant tracking the woman to Sayn. “Come on, let’s release the horse so we can get back to traveling.”
“If you say so.” Krysta appeared satisfied with his answer, and she skipped over to the horse they were returning. She wrote some sort of note that she attached (the horse allowing this one action before galloping off towards Hart), and then returned to Terrill with a thumbs up. His response was a nod, and then mounting the horse once more. Krysta followed suit, and once the two were sure the horse would make it safely, they set off again.
Their pace increased, and Krysta held tighter to him as Hart and its quaint village feel disappeared behind the peaks. Terrill felt his burning need to catch up to the woman increase. Where were the others? Who was she? How was she involved?
Most of all, Terrill thought about with gritted teeth, why did it seem as if the Sayn he was in now was not the Sayn he remembered?
Hoping his answers could be found in the capital, he and Krysta rode on.
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As expected, the ride to Sayn took a couple more days.
Most of that time was spent riding towards their destination, with little words exchanged. Krysta had picked up on the things Terrill was mulling over inside his head, or at least that he was concerned about something. This time, her choice was to speak nothing about it, only asking questions when it was pertinent, or when they decided to set up camp for the night. To Terrill’s relief, there were no monsters prowling the plains that they were crossing, but it didn’t stop him from being wary. The howls and growls still lingered on the air.
They didn’t do much to deter his worries.
The missing mark on the signpost weighed far more heavily than Terrill expected or wanted it to. He tried to push it out of his mind as much as possible, but having not even reached the capital, it lingered there like an insidious presence that threatened to choke him. No amount of focusing on what he could do in that moment was helping him.
That concern multiplied tenfold on the final leg of their journey, well after they had circumvented Winthrop, when Sayn finally appeared in the early mists of morning.
Smoke was rising from within it.
“How could the capital, of all things, be attacked like that?” Krysta said as they rode forward. She tried to raise and detach herself from Terrill in the hopes of getting a better look, but the constant movement of the horse prevented that, and her body knocked into his, instead. “Looked like it was near the port, but I couldn’t make out the details.”
“Could be those pirates that were mentioned in Carth,” Terrill grunted out. “They’d be crazy to attack the capital, but it’s not like the place is a fortress city.”
He didn’t voice the other possibility in his mind, but it turned out that he didn’t have to. Krysta thought the same. “Could be that woman, right? She’s with bandits and you said it was like she had magic of a sort. That could make it tricky for soldiers to deal with. Only the Academy is well-equipped at dealing with sorcerous powers on an offensive or defensive scale. Most militaries don’t bother.”
“Good to know, I guess. You might be right,” Terrill said. He wanted to toss a grin back at her, to reassure her, but found that his heart was thumping too wildly for him to muster anything more than grim focus as he kicked their horse into high gear. “Let’s just hope everyone there is okay…”
“If anyone’s injured, I have them covered.”
She patted his side, giving Terrill solace as he stared at the smoke rising from the capital. The closer they got to the city, the more it seemed that Krysta’s observations were correct, and the incident had occurred at the port.
When they were nearly upon the capital, Terrill slowed their horse to a mere trot. The smoke had died down a bit, mere wisps trailing and visible in the midday air. Whatever the incident had to have been, Terrill began to figure it must not have been very serious one, because the guards at the roads leading into the city remained at their posts. Citizens weren’t panicking as they went about their daily business, either. That sight made Terrill ease up and slow to a stop just outside. The foremost guard saw him, and waved him over before he could observe further.
Krysta, naturally, saw fit to share her own observations. “Weird that everyone is acting like this is normal. Must not have been serious.”
“Or business as usual,” Terrill muttered from the corners of his mouth. Krysta’s vocalization hinted at her wonder about his comment, but Terrill didn’t elaborate. He was all too used to the general apathy that came with monster attacks.
It was surprising whenever one happened in Sayn, but unlike the more fortified city of Carth, the capital had no wall to surround itself. Instead, it had numerous towers that dotted the landscape, armed with ballistae and other armaments, as well as various platoons of the royal guard that defended the border of the capital. That was usually enough of a deterrent to the circular capital city in which the royal castle and church sat as its centerpiece. That design was helped by the row of houses on the outer limits being barracks for the soldiers, rather than those for unsuspecting citizens. Whatever it was, Terrill figured it worked for them, as the capital was typically the least attacked city in the nation. Barring this singular exception, Terrill was sure that the city hadn’t seen a monster attack in quite some time, though some uneven patches of the plain they were riding over hinted at the remnants of assaults long past.
“Hail, travelers. What brings you to the capital? Surely not the festival; that’s many days past now,” the guard called to them. He didn’t bear his weapon and seemed, by all accounts, a rather jovial fellow.
“We’re looking for someone,” Terrill said. Restless in his saddle, his eyes flicked over to the large metal gate leading inward. It was the only form of defense he could see, and the guard in charge of raising it was most definitely giving him the stinkeye. “Heard she could be found here. Maybe at the port from the looks of things.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Ah, that woman, huh?” the guard asked, nodding his head, albeit appearing more like a shallow bob. “Yeah, she went and caused problems there with a band of bandits or pirates or whatever they’re calling themselves. Tore up the whole fish market if you can believe it! Gave a thought she was from that Academy, but they’re not dumb enough to endanger political relations and all that. Or so I guess. You two bounty hunters?”
“Something like that,” Krysta said, leaning on Terrill’s shoulders and dragging him down. “We’re looking for her, for sure. Are there any wounded at the port?”
“A couple fish sellers, and one of the people we captured, my buddy here tells me,” the guard said, pointing to the one in front of the gate. He continued looking as dour as possible at the suggestion and the glare was making Terrill uncomfortable. “What’d they do with that lowlife?”
“Keepin’ him locked up by the harbor, but he’s so passed out from the pain they’re gettin’ nothin’,” the other guard said. Terrill watched him, and his beady eyes stared right back until he got bored of the exchange. “Pathetic cowards, puttin’ one of their own in the line of fire like that and then leavin’ him to die. Good thing we’re not like those uncivilized bastards.”
“Thank Crea for that. She certainly made most of us above those base creatures.”
Whatever conversation the two had struck up between them, Terrill didn’t care. Krysta had tightened her hand around his shoulder, and the young Guardian got the message that they needed to get moving. He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, we’ll check things out. My companion’s a healer. She can get the guy up and conscious again.”
“I’m sure the royal family and the other guards would appreciate that. Have to make sure the port remains open so any Academy visitors can get back home. Can’t have any incidents on our hand, ha ha!” The guard’s jovial demeanor never wavered as he signaled to his companion to open the gate. With a grunt and heave, he did just that, pulling the iron wide with a lever that permitted the duo to ride their horse on through. “Hey, look for Captain Godfrey! And make sure to leave your horse at the stable!”
Terrill waved to show his acknowledgement, purposely avoiding the gaze of the other guard who felt far too piercing for his liking. Krysta was smart enough not to say anything until they were riding past the barracks, hearing the sealing of the gate behind them, when she let out a breath that tickled the back of his neck. “Pretty smooth there, Terrill. You’re getting a handle on things pretty quick.”
“I just told him the truth. Wasn’t hard,” Terrill told her. Their time to discuss it was past as the stable came into view, allowing both to dismount and turn the horse in (though not without Krysta paying a boarding fee, to her disgruntlement). “Though this Academy business…I know you’ve mentioned it, but I’ve never heard about visitors from Sagitta in the capital before. The way I remembered it, it was lockdown most of the year, and the other time it was trading for goods we couldn’t get inside the country. Though I’ll admit I spend almost all my time in Hart, so I’m not fully versed in the goings-on with the capital.”
“Well, now’s your chance, yeah?” Krysta’s intention in leading him to the port was plain as she spoke, her front turned to him while she stepped backwards. He shook his head and chuckled, indicating she should lead the way. That was exactly what she did.
Although, after a few moments, Krysta proved that she was hardly well-versed with the capital, herself. Multiple missteps ensued and she turned down a number of alleys that were dead ends. Most of it amused Terrill, while the rest annoyed him that they were taking forever to get to the port in what was otherwise an open-air city.
The one plus side that it offered was a chance for Terrill to examine the city in earnest.
Having been through the capital only twice before, and mostly confined to the inner city near the castle and across the river, he wasn’t as aware of how this half lived. It hardly seemed any different from Carth. One of the few things he did take notice of was that there was no sign of celebration anywhere in the capital as he had remembered it. Perhaps it was a result of the end of the Chosen One Festival a few days past, or perhaps he really was screwed up in the head. No matter the reason, Sayn was not in a state of festivity and was back to what could be considered business as usual during a time of peace. This was no more evident than when the duo found their way out of the maze of buildings and drew near to the drawbridge that led to the center of the capital. There, Terrill stopped and glanced up at the castle and the smaller squares that preceded it.
No streamers. No balloons. No rowdy band of Guardians that were gathered outside the bar while their Chosen Ones stayed in the castle. A couple days it may have been, but all evidence of the life he lived seemed erased. It rattled Terrill. His fingers found the royal seal in his pocket.
“Reminiscing on something?” Krysta asked, poking her nose in as usual. She wasn’t waiting for an answer she suspected wasn’t coming. “Ever been inside the castle?”
“Just for registration.” She didn’t bother asking what for. Their feet resumed movement in the port’s direction, the area around them becoming more disheveled, looking like a windstorm had passed through. “It is where I met Charles, though…or thereabouts. He was a peerless Guardian. Always training. Well-respected among the people and other Guardians, though quite a bit reticent. While the other Guardians would get drunk, he would just sit there, watching everything. Since Lumen was considered a relation of the royal family, I think he saw it as his duty to be fully aware at all times…that or he didn’t trust the royal guard.”
Here, Terrill sighed, but never stopped his forward momentum to the now visible port. A ship was docked at the harbor, though the remains of another floated just offshore. People were also sweeping and cleaning up the remains of whatever had taken place there, but Terrill instead spied the grouping of soldiers outside a building on the shore and made a beeline for them. He continued speaking with Krysta while he did so. “Look, I know I sound crazy to you, as if I’ve manifested this fantasy in my head. But there are things that feel real to me, and I need to keep believing in them until proven otherwise. That means I need to believe those three are out there.”
“Terrill…” Krysta uttered softly, but she didn’t earn his attention, “…I don’t think you’re crazy.”
These words managed to stop Terrill, and he faced her, blinking. “You don’t?”
She shuffled her own feet back and forth, twisting her lips this way and that before smiling at him. Then, she said, “I just find you interesting. Full of conviction. Besides, you made it all sound too real for it to just be made up in your head. And how else could you remember that woman on that wanted poster? It’s too uncanny.”
“Oh… I guess… Yeah… Thanks.” His stammer belied how flummoxed he was by this show of faith. He remained rooted in place while Krysta once more took the lead in front of him. His tongue twisted itself up, and before she could make it very far in the soldiers’ direction, he managed to say something. Rather, he just blurted it right out. “I find you interesting, too. As a healer. And magic and…stuff…”
“Then you’d love the Academy. All the stories I heard while visiting once are wild! Might help if something’s messed with your memory and mind, too,” Krysta said, a laugh following the end of it. “But first, let’s deal with this port and that woman. You know this Captain Godfrey?”
“Not in the slightest. I mostly just stuck to the Guardians. We were always a separate thing from the soldiers. Just a single one of us in every town across the country.”
“Hope he listens to us, then.”
“I have something that might persuade him if he doesn’t.” Krysta raised an eyebrow, and let him take charge while they finished approaching. They were seen before they could finish, the bearded man in the center of his soldiers stepping forward to greet the approaching duo.
“Port’s closed to all but business traders and Academy students heading home,” the gruff captain said. At least, Terrill figured he was the captain from the different armor he was wearing and the way with which he carried himself: that air of someone important and competent, to boot. “At least for the time being. You have papers?”
“Are you Captain Godfrey?” If the captain was taken aback by how blunt Terrill was, he didn’t show it. The rest of his soldiers did, tightening their grip on their weapons. Krysta also issued a soft gasp behind him, indicating her own shock at how forthright he was. Not wanting to seem rude, Terrill continued with, “We were told to speak with you regarding someone you’d taken prisoner, by the guards at the front gate of the capital.”
“And why would they tell you that?” Godfrey was inscrutable, his sharp green eyes examining every inch of Terrill’s body, searching for an ulterior motive.
In Terrill’s periphery, he could see that those few that were allowed to board (which wasn’t a small number) were already approaching the boat. It seemed it was nearing departure time, despite the burning husk of a ship that was visible from where they stood. Terrill’s fingers clasped the royal seal, just in case, as he decided to answer the intelligent captain. “We saw the smoke on our way in and offered to help, though it seems like you’ve got any cleanup covered.”
“What are you? Mercenaries? We’re not about to pay you!”
“The dishonor that would bring to the royal guard of Sayn!”
“Silence…” Godfrey growled, and his men were cowed, shrinking back against the guarded building. “We do have things covered, and it seems my men have loose lips. I’m glad they don’t serve in the castle. I’m afraid we’ve no money to spend on you.”
“We don’t want money, and we’re not mercenaries,” Terrill said. He made sure to keep eye contact with Godfrey, though he couldn’t help but take in the full picture of the man. He held no tension, and acted with complete control. Terrill knew he liked this guy in moments, and held no compunctions with grabbing Krysta and holding her to him, unafraid to speak the truth of things. “Just information. She’s a top-notch healer. Took my leg from a bloody mess to perfectly fine in a matter of hours.”
“You from the Academy, miss?”
“I’ve been, once or twice, but no. I am what he says, though. It’s how we heard about your prisoner. I can help.” Krysta was less composed, but as Terrill squeezed her arm, she became less worried.
Godfrey eyed them, while Terrill noticed that one of his men was brave enough to step forward. “Captain, you can’t be considering!”
The captain very much was considering from the way he waved the men away. He finished his appraisal of the pair, and Terrill was glad to see satisfaction. “What kind of information?”
“There was a woman on the wanted posters in Carth. I’ve been looking for her ever since she attacked me and a friend of mine with some bandits in tow,” Terrill said. He wasted no time, and Godfrey appreciated that, reaching up to stroke his beard with a grin. He understood just what was being asked. “I guess you could say it’s personal.”
“For many of us. I’m sorry to say she isn’t here anymore. Vanished like the wind after she and her people ransacked the port. He may know, though…” Godfrey’s eyes slid to the house, and while they did, Terrill’s hand slipped off the royal emblem in his pocket. There was no further need to worry. With a jerk of his head, Godfrey instructed them to follow.
The soldiers put their disgruntlement on full display, but stepped aside to let their captain and his guests through. Godfrey and his stocky frame led the way without noticing it (or just intentionally ignoring it) before pushing the door open into the two-room building. They didn’t need to be observant to recognize there was an unconscious man tied to a chair, cuts and bleeding scratches all over his body. The captain didn’t stop Krysta from rushing straight to his aid, and the light that Terrill was familiar with poured from her hands, washing over the captive ruffian.
“Not often we see skilled magic users. None of my men are adept enough. Only Representative Cray from Carth has ever shown any real talent for the craft, but that makes sense, when Carth is so close to Sagitta. The High Priest, too, but I understand he’s not an active practitioner.” Terrill silently nodded, letting the man assume he knew anything of what he was talking about. The only name he did recognize was Cray’s, from some of the drunken babble during the festival, but everything else was an enigma, including the organization of the country’s church.
It almost felt like every little thing was trying to remind him that this wasn’t his Sayn. It was closer to a facsimile. Part of him itched to leave it as soon as possible. The other part just wanted to find the missing pieces and restore order to what no longer made sense.
The only thing currently making sense was Krysta’s healing work that patched up all the wounds on the captive, causing him to awaken. She backed away and watched as the bound man awoke, jerking this way and that once he realized he was tied to a chair.
“Hey! Lemme go!” he screamed and shrieked, but his demands fell on deaf ears. He was utterly silenced when Godfrey stood in front of him, though, the towering, bearded man lending his powerful presence. The captive gulped. Terrill and Krysta watched from the back of the room.
“You and your friends made a mess of the port. Put my men and the people through more than a spot of trouble,” the captain rumbled. The man squeaked now, his eyes widening as Terrill saw his pupils shrink. He tried to skitter away, only to tip over. Godfrey righted him and the chair with a single hand. “I’m not interested in your reason why. Bandits are simple enough to understand. I only wonder where your leader is, that woman, and what she’s planning.”
“I…I…” The man was trembling in Godfrey’s presence, and Terrill noticed that on his body, little flames were trying to spark, but having no such luck. Krysta’s hands balled into fists, and Terrill noticed her fingertips were shining, as if she was ready to act in case some miracle of magic manifested itself. That shortly proved unneeded, as the man broke down into tears. “I’m sorry!”
“I don’t want apologies, young man. Just answers!” The barking command of the captain caused the bandit to sit up straight and nod, his lips puckered to prevent any more wails from escaping. His head turned, seeing Terrill, and for a moment he looked curious, but then he shook wildly, dispelling whatever notion he may have gathered.
“It was just the one job! The woman’s been goin’ around gettin’ a whole bunch of bandits together for some odd jobs here and there. Wouldn’t say why.”
“Where is she going? Can you at least answer that?” Terrill asked. The captain stepped back, indicating to the bandit that he expected the question to be answered.
“Not around here, I’ll tell you that. Said she was done with pathetic bandits when she was rippin’ up the port. Preferred somethin’ stronger. Somethin’ less physical…”
“Magic.” Both Krysta and Godfrey reached the same conclusion at the same time. Godfrey, however, wasn’t done. “Are you saying she’s finished with Sayn, then? Or does she seek to attack us with more magical forces?”
“I’m tellin’ you, I don’t know!” Godfrey scowled, and Terrill found himself frowning at how unhelpful the man was being. Outside, he could begin to hear a bell ringing, signaling that the ship in-dock was due to depart soon. It made Terrill antsy. “Oh, b-but she did say to try and get as many of those Academy kids as we could. Recruit ‘em over to our side…well, before she started whippin’ that wind around and hittin’ everybody! Does that help? You’ll let me go fr-”
Godfrey punched him in the face, and the man fell over, yet again unconscious. It was a clear signal to some of the men outside, for they came thundering in to hoist the man by his armpits and hauled him off to the castle dungeon. Once the man was out of sight, Godfrey turned towards Terrill, his contemplative eyes twinkling. “Well, it would seem your woman has moved on.”
“So it would seem…” Terrill muttered. He bit back on a bitter laugh; the woman was a tricky one, always showing up when he didn’t want her, and now not appearing when he needed to question her the most. “Seeking magic, huh…then that would mean…”
“To Sagitta and the Academy, likely. Can’t guarantee that, though,” Krysta said.
Terrill didn’t like it. The attack on the port and her subsequent disappearance. It felt like she was taunting him, even if he knew it couldn’t possibly have been that personal. The bell at the harbor rang again, and a horn sounded as well. Departure was imminent.
“Lands beyond…” Terrill whispered. It felt like the earth, itself, was whispering that, too. His gaze traveled outwards, over the ocean and the sea beyond. He could barely see it from here, that old and dark castle. The castle where they had battled Golbrucht.
It was another proof that what he knew was real.
It was another reminder of the voice he heard.
What it really was, was a confirmation of what he needed to do next, and where he needed to go to find what he sought.
“She’s heading to Sagitta, then. That’s where we have to go.” Every word had become louder than the last, growing with conviction until Terrill knew of no other path than the one leading him forward. Doubt and hesitation didn’t exist, even if the unknown was what came next.
If he hoped to find those that were missing, and protect everyone from the woman that brought destruction in her wake, he was willing to walk the treacherous road he didn’t know.
“You’ll want to hurry, then.” Godfrey’s instruction broke through Terrill’s ruminations, tearing him from the sea to look at the captain’s eyes. “That ship is departing for the other continent now, and there won’t be another for at least a few days.”
“But we’re not on the manifes-” Krysta began to say. Godfrey cut her off with a full-bellied laugh.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’ll cover it. We wouldn’t have known if the threat of that woman has passed or not if it wasn’t for you folks. Least I can do is secure you quick passage to go after her,” the captain assured her. His grin met itself with Terrill’s growing one. “Besides, she hurt Sayn, and the royal family has said we were due for a rather prosperous year at the festival. It’s a bit personal for us, too. Mind putting a stop to her for the country?”
The horn began to blow again. Terrill provided his wordless answer. He reached over, gripping Krysta’s wrist, and their eyes met. She looked hesitant about the road ahead, but Terrill smiled at her. “You ready to go?”
There was trepidation, and Terrill could understand. Part of him was afraid of taking that step outside their country, the only one he’d known all his life. But the flame was burning brighter inside him, demanding he seek the woman, now for more than one reason. Krysta saw that flame forming, and knowing she couldn’t stop him, she gave her answer. “Let’s go.”
As the final horn and bell to signal the ship’s departure began to sound, the duo ran, thinking nothing of provisions or the wind-torn port. Godfrey was close behind them as they dashed on to the docks, and before the ship could truly finish getting the wind in its sails, they leapt aboard the side. Some of the passengers on the deck gasped, and the crew and soldiers on board jumped up. Godfrey was quick to reassure them.
“Let them aboard, men! They have Sayn’s permission to journey to Sagitta!” he cried. At his command, a rope was tossed the pair of them, one that Terrill gratefully grasped and pulled himself up by. Krysta hung on as they were hauled up. Godfrey, however, had one more set of words for them. “You know, I never got your names. You said you’re not mercenaries, so who are you?”
“I’m Terrill. And that’s Krysta,” Terrill shouted, unsure if the man could still hear over the increasing sound of the surf. The ship was beginning to gather speed now, and Terrill ran to the edge of the deck to call once more to the captain at the end of the dock. In that moment, he threw all his caution to the wind, and told the captain the only thing he felt he could say, whether it was real or not. “We’re Guardians!”
“Guardians, huh?” the captain said, stroking his beard yet again. There looked to be some familiarity with the term, but Godfrey brushed it aside as soon as the inkling had passed. Terrill didn’t care, and the captain’s final words indicated that none of it much mattered. “Well, may the goddess speed you ahead, Guardians. Good luck in your endeavor!”
Moments later, the ship pulled them out of range, and the duo began to sail onwards towards Sagitta, leaving the country for the first time.
And for Terrill, tearing his eyes away from that island where the darkest citadel sat, he knew he was leaving that past behind and moving forward. It was time to find the woman across the seas.