Mairek hated to admit it but he'd settled into quite a comfortable routine at the Talisi camp upon the Ganidan plain despite the death of his friend. He suppressed thoughts of Ishar by delving into daily routines that served as distractions. The White Beard Regiment had taken him in, dressed him in their light green leather, treated him with respect and saved him a spot at their table. They involved him in their inner circle jokes which at first hadn't made sense and they always sought to know how he was feeling as if they somehow understood what it felt like to lose a friend. They probably did.
Mairek knew he was receiving special treatment because of Ishar. His friend's sacrifice had averted the wrath of Binoria and at the same time saved over five thousand Talisi women from a life of slavery. Said women occasionally sought him out to inquire about Ishar, seeking to quench their curiosity with answers that Mairek struggled with for he wasn't certain that the Ishar he knew from the beginning was the same Ishar they'd witnessed at the Ganidan plain. The Ishar who watched over sheep was different from the one who'd taken down a Prince of Binoria.
Still, he'd woven a picture of the Kolotian as a young man of valiance, destined for Tabrimas. Mairek felt like he owed Ishar as much though he admitted to himself that the image he'd painted of Ishar to the Talisi had strayed exceedingly from what he actually remembered of him. He'd added spice to tales, telling of times Ishar had fought off Yendw wolves to save his sheep, something that had never happened. He sprinkled stories of how Ishar would train his body every day by running up and down hills for hours, it was sort of true provided Ishar did always run towards the water well for a glimpse of Niada.
Niada had approached him several times, seeking to know more about Ishar as well and with her he'd tried his best to depict Ishar as the shy, withdrawn and willing listener he remembered him as. Mairek had talked about how Ishar would listen to him silently as he ranted for hours about how he hated Binoria for taking away the woman he'd loved, Jesna. Ishar never told him to shut up, he'd let him vent to him without saying much, offering his silent presence as comfort. Mairek realized what a gem of a friend he'd had.
"Can we still go and save him?" Niada had asked while looking at him with her almond shaped eyes of green. The women at camp had stopped wearing red robes. As time went by chances of them returning home instead of Binoria coming for them increased. So they chose instead to wear any attire of their choosing and Niada's white dress had her looking like a deity.
Mairek had shaken his head from side to side while feeling a pang of pain in his chest. He'd researched about the Nula Anyl, going as far as talking to the Princess Tari. "It's too late," He'd said to Niada. "Ishar has been gone for days, he is definitely dead by now." Niada's eyes had turned glossy with his statement but she'd nodded in understanding.
Mairek's depiction of Ishar had spread through the camp and several more people had altered his words further to the point where a story had emerged stating that Ishar was the offspring of the Goddess Meena sent as a martyr to preserve the women of Talisi. Mairek wondered how they'd come to such a conclusion but it didn't bother him much, as long as Ishar was immortalized in the hearts and minds of the Talisi then his friend would live on despite his death.
The Red priests hadn't taken the tale of Ishar being the child of Meena lightly. They'd rallied at the King's tent and prophesied doom on the Talisi camp unless the heresy came to an end. "Blasphemy!" The Red priests had shouted and torn at their red robes. The King had ignored them and Mairek was glad he had, Ishar had after all saved King Gans's life and the King owed him as much as to preserve his memory from those wishing to tarnish it. Though Mairek believed Ishar's image couldn't be tainted. That belief crumbled when someone unexpected walked into camp.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Veste, Ishar's Cheke arrived one day while Mairek was practicing his spear handling with Dhiliaf, Nohj and Memo. The three soldiers of the White Beard Regiment had taken it upon themselves to mold Mairek into a soldier with the hopes that they might stir something within him that would prompt him to join the Talisi Green Army fully. Mairek had to admit that the rigorous physical training each morning and combat drills at noon together with scouting techniques lessons before nightfall almost made him want to join. Almost.
He was still uncertain about committing fully to the Talisi Green Army because of what he'd felt during the Gift giving at the Ganidan plain prior to Ishar's involvement. He'd felt lowly, pathetic and worthless as he'd been part of the entire body of the Talisi Green Army present at he Ganidan plain prostrating themselves before Binorians who were only a fraction of the Talisi numbers. He'd felt the fragility of his Kingdom, the subservience and blatant cowardice as even their own King bent a knee before a foreign Prince. What good was the training? What benefits did being combat competent hold if the first thing one does in a combat worthy situation is to go down on one's own knees before the foe? Mairek thought the Talisi army was just playing pretend though he kept said thoughts to himself.
Dhiliaf had been instructing him on proper footing while wielding the spear, he'd been emphasizing on the basis of a solid foundation stance from their training spot just slightly outside the clusters of tents.
All the while Mairek had fought down the guilt brought about by his personal opinions regarding the Talisi army. There was no need to put to words the thoughts in his mind, the soldiers believed themselves to be soldiers and a man's identity sometimes was all he had. That's when commotion had erupted within the tents, causing people to flood towards the center of the encampment.
Mairek had dropped his training, curiosity getting the better of him. He'd made his way to where Red priests had congregated outside the King's tent once more. This time with Veste in tow. Ishar's Cheke was dressed in the same red robes as his fellow priests, he held up his right arm for all to see his missing hand. ".. the Kolotian had done this to his own Cheke! Someone who had cared for him since infancy! He'd even burnt down his home.." A Red priest's mouth had been frothing as he relayed words Veste had shared with him while pointing at Veste's severed arm. Veste looked like he was on the verge of tears, incapable of comprehending the animosity that had come to him despite his liberal soul.
Mairek didn't doubt said words. Ishar had come to him smelling of smoke and now he'd found out why. Mairek couldn't deny the fact that Ishar had changed during his last days but that did not stop him from giving his friend the benefit of the doubt. If Ishar had indeed done what the Red priest said then he must have had his reasons.
King Gans had settled the matter by making the Red priests' authority more pronounced, much to the delight of the Red priests who'd been angling for a role to play so as to seem important. King Gans had made it mandatory for everyone at the camp including himself to congregate just outside of the clusters of tents where a bonfire would be lit every night and the Talisi would gather to worship and pray to the Goddess Meena under the leadership of the Red priests.
The King's order went into effect and each night as Mairek dragged himself towards the large bonfire together with the White Beard Regiment he wondered, What would Ishar think of this? He'd then shake his head from side to side as he recalled Ishar's warnings about praying to Meena during his last days.
He wouldn't think anything, because he is dead. The thought would send him into a melancholic mood and he would stand silent all through the worship and prayers to the Goddess of the Kingdom of Binoria.