I

He spent more than a month travelling back from West Batunn to his hometown, Atia-Ursha. He then finally arrived to see the dancing flowers as the soft wind blew. The great fields of tallgrass prairie.

The purger closed his eyes and deeply breathed in the air and felt the warm sun caress his skin. From the distance, he could see a lonely inn by the side of the road, quiet and beautiful. He clicked his tongue and let the horse walk to the destination. Nazeir straightened his posture and observed the home he left years ago. Birds chirped, the soft wind whispered to his ears, a sensation of true peace… Then a herd of Bison crossed the road in front of him.

An old man with his bison herd crossed the dirt road and made him stay and wait.

“Morning!” the herder greeted him.

Nazeir replied with a wave.

After the long journey, he finally arrived at the inn surrounded by short fences. Nazeir dismounted from his horse and tied it neatly to the fence. He brought his bag and went inside the inn.

The inn welcomed him with silence. Not a single customer was inside, except for a woman behind the serving table. She fell asleep with her head on the table. The purger knocked on the wooden table and woke up the girl.

It startled her and made her banged the table in panic.

“Who is there?” she demanded an answer.

“It’s me,” Nazeir placed his bag on the table.

“Who?” she stepped much closer and looked at him. “Nazeir!” she noticed his face.

She ran and hugged him tight. The purger hugged back and stroked her hair. The girl laughed and then cried.

“I’ve missed you,” she expressed her feelings.

“I know it. How are you, Tamara?”

“Not well,” she wiped her tears. “But I’m better now.”

“Why? Tell me what’s going on. Where is everyone? Where’s your father?” Nazeir walked to the back of the inn and searched for someone.

“He passed away last year,” she fiddled with her brown hair. “I’m now the only one here taking care of the inn.”

“Alone?”

“Once or twice, my uncle and aunt will pass here to check on things. Every time it will be the same, a lonely, empty inn.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll help.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “But let’s not talk about me,” she went to the back of the serving table and brought a drink. “What about you? I haven't seen you for ages.”

“I travelled far to the east. Almost through the mountain ranges.”

“To the Brindorian mountains? Tell me more!”

The two spoke about their lives from the past years. They laughed and got lost in the past for hours.

“So that’s when I met your father. Years later, he married your mother,” Nazeir explained.

“It must be amazing to live long years and still look so young,” she rested her head on her hand. “Do you still want to be a mercenary for the rest of your life?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I will stop one day,” he jests.

“Oh, I know!” she jolted. “You can help me here.”

“That’s a good option. You can serve the customers while I sleep in the back,” he pointed to the backroom.

Nazeir then turned his head to the entrance door. Sounds of horseshoe clanking approached the inn.

“Speaking of customers…” he pointed at the door and stood.

They waited for a moment until the customers entered.

“Hello? Anyone here?” a voice enters the room.

“Please come in,” Tara answered. “Why don’t you help me now?” she gave him a look.

“In my armour?”

“Of course not. Go back to your room. Your clothes are still there,” she walked past him. “I kept them clean all these years.”

“What about rest?”

“Come on. You can’t even sleep.”

“Alright,” he raised his hands. “I’ll go.”

While Nazeir went to the back, Tara welcomed the customers and served them.

II

After releasing himself from his battle outfit, the one who called the purger returned to the inn as a commoner. With a cloth on his shoulder, he walked out to the front and attended to the customers.

“Goodness!” someone raised from their seat. “Am I dreaming or we met you again?”

“Heya! Look who’s here!” a man raised his beer and raised from his seat. “It’s truly him. It’s Nazeir!” another called the purger.

“Brother! Come to us!” he waved for him to come to them. “We haven’t talked since you crossed West and East Batunn Border!”

“Is that you, Aldi?” Nazeir walked to them.

“Of course! Have you forgotten about us?” he laughed.

“Seems you two know each other,” Tamara commented behind the serving table.

“We do, miss. We invited him to spend the night with us by the side of the road to West Batunn,” the third brother joined the conversation.

“True,” he leaned on their table.

“And he choked out, Abim,” the youngest posed with a rear naked choke.

“Yes, he did,” the second accepted the history of them.

Tamara suddenly raised her head and looked at Nazeir in awe.

“But it was my fault. I started the whole thing,” he clarified to Tamara. “And for that, I’m sorry,” he offered his hand.

Nazeir shook it.

“Come and sit with us. I’ll buy you a drink for the mistake,” Abim offered.

“No need,” he politely declined.

“I insist. Please,” he pointed to a seat for his brothers to make. “Sit with us.”

Nazeir sat with them, and Tamara brought him a drink.

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“Call if you need something,” she told the brothers.

Abim nodded.

After she left, the four of them toasted and drank their drink.

“To be honest,” Ade wiped his mouth. “I’m not a big fan of mead or anything that makes me drunk.”

“What do you prefer, then?” Nazeir calmly placed his drink on the table.

“Anything herbal from our home. Ginger, tea, coffee,” his lips kept moving to erase the awful taste.

“We don’t have that here. In Ursha we mainly have Bison,” he drank once more.

“You spoke like you live here,” it intrigued Abim.

“Yes. I live here,” he pointed at the table.”

“The Inn? It’s yours?” Ade gasped.

“No. It’s hers,” Nazeir turned around to see Tamara sitting alone, daydreaming. “Back then, it was her father’s. But sadly, he passed away when I went East.”

“So you live with her? Are you two…” Ade subtly asked a question.

"No,” Nazeir gave a stern look.

“How did you even end up living with her, anyway?” Abim raised a question.

“Me and her father have a history together. Helped him build this inn and became friends,” he gulped the last drop. “What about you? Where are you going now?”

“We are going to sell the sword we looted in the north. Do you know how many wars are there in the north? We can make a fortune by selling these weapons.”

“But what about the cost of going there?” Nazeir leaned much closer to the table.

“We have someone we trust. He owes us many things,” Abim also leaned in. “He also has a boat business. Travelling to the north and south, and even to the islands.”

“You’re going with him to the north?”

“We do. On our way to Vaghun. He owns a trading post there,” he tapped the table and looked at the ceiling for a moment. “What time is it?”

Ade left the table and went to the window.

“Must be noon,” the third brother poked his head out.

“Then I’m afraid we must leave,” Abim opened his coin pouch. “Ready the wagon, you three.”

While counting his coins, the old man paused his count.

“How much is it, miss?” he asked.

“Huh?” Tamara returned to earth after her daydream.

“Put it back,” Nazeir grabbed Abim’s hand. “Just go. You’ll need it. Use those coins elsewhere other than here.”

“But I can pay,” he tried to persuade.

“I say save it.”

He seemed hesitant at first, but alas, he nodded and retreated into his pouch.

“Thank you. I’ll never forget this,” he refused to look at Nazeir in embarrassment. “I will be leaving. Good to know someone like you exists, Nazeir.”

Abim left the inn with his brothers. Nazeir watched them ride away, and they waved at the purger.

“Oh, no!” Tamara ran to the door. “Did you ask them to pay?”

“I did,” Jung opened his belt pouch and gave Tamara the coins.

“But this is way too much,” she said. “This is like five days' worth of meals.”

“They are a generous bunch.”

“I never thought they would do that,” she eyed the purger.

“Must be your lucky day,” he smiled.

“Our lucky day,” she restated.

III

In the evening, Nazeir finally reached his zen. He dipped down into a creek behind the inn. He washed himself in his trunks and listened closely to the water flow. The man watched how his fingers blocked the water flow and created unique patterns of water. Nazeir accepted the peace. Finally, he lay down with his back on the grass and watched the bright stars. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the water give him a little rest.

“I didn’t know purgers can sleep,” a familiar voice spoke to him.

“Tamara?” he opened his left eye.

She stood above him in her nightwear.

“Sure,” he tapped the grass next to him.

The girl lay next to him and watched the stars painting the night sky.

“When was the last time we watched the stars?” she asked while observing the sky.

“Must be when you’re still little.”

“Was it?” she looked at him. “I can’t believe time flies by. Once I remember when you lifted me when I was little, and now I’m an adult,” she smiled at the thought. “And look at you, Nazeir. Nothing changed. You’re still yourself. Not a single grey hair,” she sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could live a long life like you.”

“Sometimes I wish I could live a normal life like you,” he gave almost a similar answer.

“Would you?”

“I may live a long life, but would you do it? Even if you cannot rest your eyes?”

“I don’t know,” she hummed. “You made me question it.”

“Can I tell you a story?” she asked for her permission.

“What is it about?”

“It’s about a lost young man. He travelled far and cannot go back home. Trapped in a strange land.”

“What happened to him, then?” she turned her body to him.

“He tried to go home to his family, but he couldn't. Because of that, it forced him to live in a strange land. Somehow, circumstances made him find new friends and family.”

“But what about his old family?”

“I…” he paused. “I don’t know what happened. Perhaps I can tell you another day.”

“Well, that’s great,” she slumped back on the grass. “I thought the story would get interesting. For a young old man, you have a memory of a ninety-year-old,” she joked about his age.

“Maybe it’s because it’s already late,” he sat up. “You should go to sleep.”

“Should I?”

“Go now. I’ll be inside the inn if any midnight travellers are coming here to rest.”

She stood both on her feet and yawned.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she waved as she left.

Nazeir looked back and waited for her to be out of sight, then continued to watch the sky.

When dawn came, Nazeir sat alone in the inn. He opened his bag and reached for one of the coin pouches. He grabbed the bulging pouch and stared at it for a long time. Moments later, the purger quietly opened the door to Tamara’s room. The old wooden door creaked as he gently nudged it open. Nazeir saw Tamara still in her deep slumber. He walked closer to her bedside table in the room's darkness and placed the building coin pouch. He retreated outside and closed the door much softly.

Nazeir knew he must leave. His mind was still being ravaged by the offer of the goddess. If the goddess knew what he wanted the most, then perhaps she could give him. Although he still questioned himself, ‘What do I want?’ all day since he met her. How could she know the answer if he didn’t know it? It did not take long before he got lost in his thoughts.

“Nevermind,” he spoke to himself.

Nazeir exited the inn in his battle outfit and placed his belongings on his horse. By dawn, he left the inn and moved onwards to his next destination. His family.

IV

He travelled until noon to reach another old friend. He made his way to a narrow dirt road in the forest. Nothing bothered him or the horse. Deers may cross paths with him, but nothing out of the ordinary. For once more, Nazeir felt at ease. He stared at the leaves, letting the sun pierce them to give light to the forest.

“Peace and tranquillity,” he said to his horse. “What do you think of it?” he brushed its hair.

While enjoying the moment, his ears flicked. He heard something move at high speed, whistling. Realising the situation, he ducked and let an arrow fly past him. It startled the horse, and it galloped. Nazeir checked his side, searching for the attacker. As he closed to his destination, more arrow bolts aimed at him. Some missed, and one hit found its mark.

Nazeir fell from his horse violently and lay still on the ground. He lifted his head slightly and saw his horse run away. He groaned and watched a leaf fall towards him. Nazeir grabbed the bolt that hit him and saw the dull end of it.

The purger got back on his feet and stared into the distance. A middle-aged man grabbed Nazeir’s horse by the leash and calmly led it to him. Eventually, the two came face to face only a couple of feet apart. Not both of them dared to breathe during the moment.

“You’ve not changed, Nazeir,” the man gave Nazeir the leash.

“You’re fatter,” he pointed at the man’s gut.

They smirked and hugged each other.

“It’s been a long time, Jurko,” Nazeir greeted.

“We weren’t sure if you’re still alive,” he let go of the hug.

Not long after they hug, dozens of men in armour revealed themselves from the bushes. All of their hands were holding the crossbows and dull bolts.

“Let’s go to meet the others,” he proposed.

They all walk on their feet to a small cave beyond the forest. Once they arrived, they saw soldiers cleaning their swords or standing guard from anything unwanted. When they saw Nazeir, many of them froze in time. Some dropped their weapons and approached him. Not long after, a gigantic mass of soldiers left the cave and saw Nazeir standing with Jurko.

“He’s back!” one soldier shouted.

People started cheering, creating a thunderous roar of excitement. Nazeir knew these soldiers, even by name and nicknames. The first family that took him in. A family of mercenaries. His death and rebirth from a man to a purger.

He smiled and tried his best to cover his excitement. Those soldiers make a way for an elderly man to see Nazeir.

“I may be old, but not senile,” he patted Nazeir’s arm. “I knew you would come.”

“How are you, Tabot?” Nazeir asked.

“Never been better. Come! We have lots of things to catch up on,” he invited Nazeir to the cave.