Stop sleeping and wake up Koll. Amara chastised me from somewhere in the broken stone city. I turned and looked around, ignoring the familiar open ruins that were around the spire mountain.
“Where are ya, ya old hag?!” I called out, walking through the pitch black halls, ignoring the poor soldiers who found death too soon on these accursed halls.
You need to wake up.
“Wake up from what?!” I opened the hallway’s door with a bash, and the entire world caught alight. Murmures around the camp flooded my ears alongside groans of pain and despair.
My hand was stretched out to my side as I sat obediently on a small wooden stool. Letting the healer band the gnash on my arm. “Give it to me straight, do ya have any spirits in ‘ere?”
The healer chuckled. "If you are willing to drink something meant for disinfection, then yes.” She finished talking by tightening the bandaid on the wound on my forehead. Drawing a hiss from my lips.
Forehead?
Darkness took me, quiet, hushed sounds surrounded me. I opened my eyes and saw the star filled sky above me. I grunted, lifting a hand to my forehead and feeling a band around it. Right.
The last thing I remembered was fighting the bandit, until he moved like a blur. Meaning that if I’m alive, he must be dead. Aubree probably handled everything.
Feeling a bit wobbly, I rose up from the carriage on which I was and started to walk through the various carriages and campfires. After feeling my mind and body focus I walked to the nearest campfire. The former townspeople, who were either lucky enough to not encounter one of the bandits, or that were at the completely other side of the town, ignored me as I came to sit beside them at the campfire.
The warmth embraced me and I let myself sigh. “How long has it been?” Some of the people looked up at me, others stared straight into the flames.
“About half a day.” A dwarf told me while looking at the flames. “Were on our way to Dreokpis. Should be there in about a week or two.”
I grunted and stared into the flames a bit more. I noted to myself that the others were not dwarfs and reasoned to ask my next question in my tongue. “How many casualties?”
Alongside the dwarf, two elfs and one old looking human stiffened, while the others were either ignorant of the dwarven tongue or too occupied staring into the flames, to notice the change in the air.
“...Most of the town didn’t even know what hit them before they died… The bandits got in deep and then started to destroy everything around them.” The old man spoke hoarsely, never looking away from the flames. He had the same stare that my comrades used to have.
That I used to have, so long ago.
I looked around, from beyond the campfire. Aside from the dozen carriages, and the dozen campfires, all filled with groups of people. We were surrounded by nothing but darkness and the everwatchful stars.
“By Cysan.” I uttered under my breath. The realization came down hard. Like a mountain.
Like a colossal tsunami of cold water.
What remained wasn’t even a tenth of the town.
What remained… Amara.
My legs stiffened, ready to run to wherever she was. She needed my help, I promised to help her, to stand by her.
But she was dead.
I stood motionless, my back already facing the campfire. I could barely feel my lounges put air inside of my body.
For what felt like infinity, No one disturbed me, no one came to be by my side. And at one point, I turned to the fire. Sat. And looked at the flames.
They danced and died as they got too far up in the air. And when the wood was starting to turn into ash. Someone would walk through the dark fields into one of the dark forests and cut branches for the fire.
They danced, and died. Only to be rekindled again.
Danced.
Died.
Death.
Amara was dead.
“Koll.” Someone called behind me. Deep in my mind I recognized from the voice that it was James. But I didn’t care. Even when his hand came resting on my shoulder. Gently. Firmly. Warmly.
Stop sleeping and wake up Koll. Amara’s voice ran through my mind and I took a deep breath. “Aye.” My voice sounded strange in my ears, as if it was choked. I cleared my throat, “Aye, I’m ‘ere.” I steeled myself, and turned to look at James behind me.
He was kneeling on the ground, looking at me softly. “I’m here for you.”
I grunted, made some place for him to sit next to the campfire, and turned to look at the flames. Until a glint caught my attention. James brought with him a bottle of spirit. Dwarven spirit. The same one Amara and I drank so often.
Drank.
As he offered it, I shook my head slowly and turned my look from the bottle, back to the flames. Clenching my fists on my legs, staring into the flames without blinking.
I started to remember how that sandstone of a man played with my life. How he smiled as he put his darned spear to my neck. How he cut off Amara’s head.
I growled, drawing gazes from around the fire. “That piece of shite was a sage. That son of a whore.”
“Koll?”
“The bandit who killed Amara, ‘e was talkin’ about yer son’s soul.” I was clenching my hands on my legs so hard that I felt as if my flesh would tear off. But I didn’t care.
He killed her, and there was nothing that I could do.
“What are you talking about?"
I opened my mouth only to stop. Everyone that sat at the campfire had their eyes on me.
"One of the bandits was a sage?"
"Wait, why would a sage do such a thing?"
"How can you be sure he was a sage and not some madman like all the others?"
"Did he have an ability? Did you see him use a tool with an Aether rune?"
The campfire was thrown into chaos as the new information carshed, there was a common hunger inside everyone’s eyes. A hunger to know why. "Nae, 'e didn't have ‘n ability. Except from not feelin' any sort of pain whatsoever."
"They all acted like that." James noted, and some of the people nodded quickly.
"Those were no sages." Another voice, soft and calm, spoke beyond the shadows. Aubree stepped into the light. "They didn't have any special Aether abilities. Nor did they have any tools imbued with Aether runes." He let silence take the campfire as he stood near it, arms crossed.
“Then ‘e was just able to see tha brat’s soul?” I challenged him and he turned to look at me.
“He was crazy, just like the rest of them. Perhaps they had an alchemist in their group handing them potions to ignore pain, and at the same time make them obedient to him. They were a bit too organized.” Aubree explained with his soothing calm voice.
Pain killing potions… A conversation I had long ago with Amara drifted in my mind, since the first village was raided three years ago. Alongside what the bandit said amidst his rambling. “These were the same bandits, or at least from the same group.” I said, grabbing everyone's attention. “That bandit said this was their first town, and that they had done the same in fifteen other villages.”
“I remember the first villagers, some of them were talking about child abduction.” Another person said.
“There were similar rumors when survivors from other villages came to our town.”
“You said that the bandit talked about his son’s soul? What did he say? Is there something special about him?” Someone fervently asked and James physically tensed beside me.
Darn it.
“The only weird thing about this man’s child is his stupidity. He was trying to help against the bandits.” Aubree spoke up, giving me a sharp gaze and I was one second from snarling at him as he began to speak again. “The bandit was at death's door when he said all of this, remember? He was clearly spouting nonsense trying to give himself some more meager breaths.” Aubree lied fluently through his teeth and huffed. After all, we were the ones who were about to die. “Did you ever see a sage who doesn’t use Aether tools or his own ability mid combat? The chance that they were sages and not crazy people is near nonexistent.”
“Ah, Aye’ yer right.” I nodded, realizing from his sharp gaze that he tried to lessen the attention on the brat. “Sages in the spire mountain always carried an Aether item to mend themselves, alongside other items.”
Some people nodded. And others simply stopped looking at James or me.
“Anyway, I came here on Charlotte’s behalf, she told me to call you.” Aubree continued and James looked up.
“She did?”
“Yes.” Aubree’s fists tightened and I got up draggin James with me off the ground. James quickly looked at the both of us with a puzzled expression, until his eyes widened.
We started walking in a certain direction led by Aubree. And when we were far enough from the campfire he started to walk slower. “Do you want the child to get into a worse situation than he already is?” Aubree chided, iron in his voice.
James paled a bit and I grunted.
“I didn’t think-”
“That is the problem, isn’t it? We leave you in the carriage for two hours without watch and you go and make trouble. What do you think the townspeople will do when they hear that there is a child who is probably wanted by the bandits that attacked only half a day ago?”
I narrowly looked at him. Shit.
“And what do you already know about sages? Do you want them to think that the world is going up in flames? That even the ones who are supposed to protect are not doing their sacred duty? Do you even understand the implications that it would bring on the sage forest when we reach Dreokpis?”
I growled at him, feeling my face get hot, “I only woke up, ya stinking pansy elf bastard, do ya think I wanted to do any of that? Get off yer mount and take out that stick which ya shoved soo up yer ass.”
James pushed the both of us apart silently. “I… I need to go to my son.” He slowly said and kept on going, leaving the both of us. His shoulders were slumped and his legs threaded on.
I clenched my teeth and followed him, the sound of soft steps behind me never fading.
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We walked silently through the carriages. Each one had a tamed mana beast attached to it. Some hand long tails, spiky thorny heads and slit like pupils. Some even had giant feathery birds with long beaks.
When we reached the carriage, a rather well looking one with two of the giant birds sleeping next to it. James went to the back of the carriage and entered.
Standing silently, I started to massage my beard while frowning at the luxurious carriages. I never understood how former slaves came into such wealth. “Thought you were slaves, how’d ya get this rich.” I asked bluntly, knowing very well that the elf bastard could hear me well enough.
Aubree sighed behind me. “I guess that you haven’t heard of house Stanlire?”
“Nae.”
Aubree hummed dryly. “It was a slaver house in Dreokpis, one to which I and Freda, my wife, belonged to. Luckily for us, or unluckily, the members of the house had a tendency to abuse us and disregard the slave rules of Inyslian.” Aubree gestured to his cut and scarred ears, his expressions unwavering. “So, when the heir to the house was lost in the spire mountain, and the rest of the family made a couple of bad investments, they fell, and the authorities decided that it would be best to reprimand the mistreated slaves with no owner with freedom and a bit of cash.”
I looked again at the carriage, and remembered seeing the elf's stone house. The luxurious, two leveled stone house, with the maid. “Tis doesn’t look like a bit.”
“The rest is simple trade. I was often by the heir’s side while he did his business.” Aubree continued smoothly, looking with me at the carriage.
For a moment we stood quietly. For as much as his presence made me want to simply stay as far away from him, his rather regal appearance with his good looking clothes did make me remember how he looked during fighting.
And that only helped me remember the last moments. “What happened to tha fuckin’ bandit?”
“He died.”
I huffed at the simple answer. “Did ya make it slow?” I asked, feeling my heart sink into something dark and cold. “Did ‘e suffer?”
“I didn’t kill him.”
I scrunched my face up and opened my mouth to ask him what he was talking about, only to remember Dante.
Oh no.
He was too young. The brat who would always stand up for others. That would always keep his pains to himself. That would always try to make people feel better. I couldn’t help but think about one thing.
What would Amara think of this?
Her memory was a sharp reminder, especially as it was quickly followed by her last moments in my mind in which her head tumbled to the ground. I closed my eyes deeply and tried to distract myself. “Quite a fighter, for a former slave.” I said the first thing that came to my mind, my voice sounded like gravel.
He took a deep and exaggerated breath, which raised an urge in me to push him with all my power. He looked down at me with his cold eyes. “Would you rather have us defenseless and weak? Just as we had been when we were slaves?”
I grunted, and kept replaying Amara’s last moments in my head.
“If you are done with your questions, I must go back to my family. Know that you have a place in our carriage during our travel.” Aubree said dryly pointing to the carriage which James went into, and I looked at him with raised eyebrows.
Was I in his carriage?
He turned his back on me and walked towards another well looking carriage.
The bastard has two carriages.
I took a deep sigh and rubbed my face. For a moment I let myself think. Simply think.
Funeral, I need to make a funeral.
I decided not to stay, and let the families have their space. Walking away from the carriages and the campfires. I took two rings from my pocket, using heat I melded them together into a little tube, and etched the dwarf runes of sorrow and Grief. I put them on my beard and walked.
In the darkness, I found myself staring into the starry night sky. “Worthless idiot.” I muttered to myself. I needed at least a token from her to burn, alongside a strong spirit to spill in her honor.
I sat on the ground and started to reminisce of Amara, feeling nothing more than numbness in my heart as I recalled her face, until sleep took me.
----------------------------------------
The banging on the giant metal doors intensified. Even though there were stone slabs covering them, it seemed as if it mattered not to the horde that was waiting beyond.
“Hold!” Our commander shouted.
Humans, elves, dwarfs, and orcs stood together, all wearing the white stern armor and runic robes.
The metal doors broke and out of them spew out the ghouls. Former soldiers alongside dead citizens of the spire mountain sprawled out from the hole. Their faces' flesh stretched to the limit and bodies covered with black veins, eyes blacker than night.
We were prepared. Burning them would choke us, so our casters shot out large amounts of pressurized water. In one burst the horde was dismembered and pushed back. The few who remained had enough mana to stand the attack.
We switched places with the conjurors and dashed forward. With the ghouls not prepared, we came down on them like a storm, smashin and tearing them apart.
With all of them dead, we were given a command to push forwards beyond the metal door.
We pushed, our conjurers creating light bulbs of fire to light up a bit of the giant halls, our footsteps made wet echoes as we walked on the dissipating leftover water. “The stench would kill us before they do.” Byleth muttered beside me.
“Not so different from your smell.” Nilvan Retorted, drawing scant chuckles.
“Focus.” Kidra demanded, our eyes briefly caught each other, making my heart wrench. We walked further and further through the dark halls.
A small pebble fell from the dark high ceiling and I looked up seeing only darkness. My heart started to race. I remembered what happened. I wanted to scream, shout, ‘from above!’ but I only stared, and kept staring. Into the complete darkness.
There were no conjurus, creating light bulbs, no rotten smell from beginning to end, no dead comrades walking alongside me. My darned eyes were simply closed. I awoke and looked at the sun. Taking a couple of breaths to calm myself, I looked around the field and saw the carriages.
People started to organize and move. And after a moment of catching my breath, so did I. Getting up, I walked to Aubree’s carriages. People were buzzing all around. They knew we couldn’t stay, that we had to move into a safer place.
On my way, I saw a mother taking heavy bags, and I decided to help her. and when she was ready, I saw others needing help. I helped silently, focusing only on carrying and organizing. Ignoring the dream I had, which was always at the edge of my thought.
Stop sleeping and wake up Koll.
I completely stopped, right as I put a small crate into one of the carriages. I took my smoking pipe from my pocket by instinct, and started to spin it.
The smoking pipe was a gift. A gift from Amara. I looked down at it, realizing the only thing I could give as a tribute to her funeral was the only thing I had left of her.
How many times had I given tribute to people I knew and could no longer see? How many times have I remembered their last moments? How many times would I have to remember them?
It used to be easy with the herbs. It used to help it lessen, lessen it all. But the pipe was empty, and it only spun, it had no use even with herbs, for a very long time.
I took a deep breath and walked away to my first destination. James’ carriage.
On my way, Eleanor was the first to see me. She ran to me and threw herself at me, hugging me tightly. I stood there with my hands in the air and sighed. I hugged her back and gave her pats on the back. “Aye, good to see ya too.”
She looked at me with a deep frown and watery eyes, she gave the rings on my beard a scant look.
I looked back at her gently, feeling a sting in my eyes. “I know.” I said hugging her again, but having no further words left to say. I didn’t even know what to say to myself.
I took a deep breath to calm myself. “How’s the brat?” I asked after letting her wipe away her ever following tears. She froze, she started to look at the ground only to look back at me. Her puffy silver eyes were determined. “Bad.”
I nodded. “Go back to yer parents lassie.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No yer not.” I said as I kept on walking to the carriages, sending half a stare at the following Eleanor. “Since when did ya become so bold?”
She gave me a weak half smile and walked alongside me.
Inside the carriage, Charlotte was letting Dante sleep on her lap. While James looked over them both, his hands clasped together. Both of the parents had black rings around their eyes, their posture was half slumped, tired.
I tapped the edge of the carriage and caught both of their attention. James gave me half a smile and Charlotte seemed as if she was ready to cry. “...Oh Koll.” She muttered quietly. “What happened to Amara… I’m so sorry.”
James came to her side and held her hands.
My heart wrenched. “There’s nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” I gave a nod towards the brat. “how’s ‘e holdin’ on?”
Both of their faces dropped. Charlotte was already quitaly sobbing into James’ chest.
“Did you not hear the screams?” He croaked.
I tensed. Another bandit attack?
“I was outside tha camp, what happened?”
Everyone grew quiet, Charlotte clenched her hands around James, but did not move much as if to not wake up Dante.
“He had nightmares the entire night, he clawed at himself, and…” James stopped to gulp and turned to look at Dante. Eleanor beside me stilled like a statue.
Loong red stripes covered his arms. They almost looked as if it was one more scratch from bleeding. “Is there anythin’ I can do ta help?”
“...If you remember any of Amara's customers, or if you know of another alchemist who survived, could you ask them to make or give us some of their potions? Something to calm the heart? He used to drink them when he was younger.”
“Aye, I’ll go search.” I gave them all one last look, my gaze lingering on Dante. “I’ll be swift.”
James nodded with a weak thin smile and returned his attention to Charlotte and Dante.
“Let’s go lassie.” I started to walk away. Eleanor stood watching the family for half a second, but she quickly nodded and started to follow. “Remember any of ‘er customers if at all lassie?”
“...I remember a couple that bought calming potions from her. Not their names, but if I were to come across them I would be able to recognize them. Were there any other alchemists or potion makers at town?”
I nodded. “‘Twill be faster if we separated. Ya should go ‘round and search for anyone familiar, if ya find any come to me first and we’ll ask for their potion. I’ll go and seek any other potion makers who survived.”
Eleanor nodded and started to run.
Aye that’s the spirit.
While I didn’t start running, I did quicken my step. Spotting a couple of the people that I helped before, I came to them and asked around. Unfortunately those who knew the potion brewers and alchemists, also knew that they most certainly died. Neither did they themselves hand any sort of potion to help.
A couple of minutes turned into a dozen, and the organized carriages and the people started to move. There were a lot of people that did not have any carriage at all, and so I walked outside the line of carriages and asked more and more people.
Right as I was about to ask another person, Eleanor ran and called for me. “I found someone.”
I gave her a wide smile. “Lead on.”
Eleanor nodded seriously and ran towards one of the carriages, in which there was an elf woman with a babe in her hands. Her presumed human husband sat with her.
I was right behind her when she started to talk, a gentle inviting smile on her face. “Excuse me for barging in. My name is Eleanor, and the person behind me, Koll, is a smith who was a very close friend of Amara. If I am correct, you took a potion from her when you first came to the town.”
The elf looked flabbergasted. She blinked twice and her husband looked between her and Eleanor.
“Y-yes I have, I, well yes about three years ago, how do you know of me?”
“I was there when you first came into the store.”
“Oh. I see, I… I never quite got to pay her back.” The elf smiled and looked down at her baby. “...For everything she has been giving me until now.” Her smile switched with a frown, a deep frown. She looked at Eleanor with wide eyes. “Is she well? Did she make it?”
Eleanor took a breath and looked away. She returned her look to the elf and slowly shook her head. The elf put a hand to her mouth.
Why is she takin’ so long?
I was about to ask if she had any potions, but Eleanor quickly cut me off before I could speak.
“I know that it might be too much to ask. After all that has happened, and after all this time. But the attack of the bandits had affected one of our friends, in the same way that it affected you in the past. We were hoping that you might have some of the potions she has given you, so that we could lessen his burden.”
The elf silently whimpered. “...Yes.” The elf wiped a tear from her eye and sniffed. “Sif, it’s in the leather bag, please bring it to me.”
“Reila you need it fo-”
“Please.” The elf demanded and her husband complied, bringing a potion from the leather bag. Eleanor took it and gave a small smile, brushing her finger at the small paper attached to it with Amara’s handwriting.
“Thank you, Reila. I’m sure that it could help him.”
“There is nothing to be thankful for, it’s the least that I could do.” She said weakly.
“Come Koll, we should bring it to him as fast as possible.” Eleanor said and quickly walked off. I walked right on her heel. “Will that potion work?”
She nodded. “I remember this potion from her shop. This will be perfect.”
I grunted, slightly letting myself reminisce about the little lass that always used to cry, or look like she was about to cry when faced against the tiniest of hurdles. She turned to look at me as I chuckled, one eyebrow raised in question. “Ya’d really grown… I’m proud of ya lassy.”
“Oh.” Eleanor looked preflexed for a moment, until a dumb but wide smile took over her. “T-Thanks? I mean, thank you Koll.” She turned to look ahead with a spring in her steps.
The silence between us was comfortable, and we focused on making our way back through the moving carriages. Until Eleanor’s ears twitched and she froze, only to sprint back towards our carriages.
Before I knew it, I started running too, sensing the anxiety carried by her mana. And after a minute of running I heard the distant, inconsistent screaming.
People who were already terrified from what happened a day before, seemed even more miserable. But with the ever distant screaming growing closer, I realized it was only one person screaming, from the high pitch It seemed to be a very young person.
When we reached its origin, my stomach already fell.
It was coming from our carriages.
A couple more steps towards our moving carriages revealed Charlotte clutching into Freda, heaving and sobbing. They both stood unmoving while the carriages kept on riding.
But the screaming did not come from her.
Inside Charlotte’s moving carriage, James was hugging the wild, crying and screaming Dante in his arms. Rocking back and furth as Dante latched onto him, his grip almost seemed as if it would tear his flesh.
“It isn’t my fault!” He cried out amidst his screaming. “It’s not my fault!”
James nodded silently, even from a distance I could see his teary eyes. But he held his tears. Never letting his son go.
Both Eleanor and I stopped, freezing in our tracks, seeing the carriage riding on, as Dante kept on screaming, his agony seemed to know no end.
Eleanor looked at the distancing carriage, with the bottle strongly held close to her heart. I looked at her and opened my mouth, wanting to say something, anything.
But my mind decided to remind me of one thing.
Amara is dead.
We stood and watched, as the world moved on.