Fear not the retribution of those without knowledge. Fear not the blades of those unhallowed. What we aspire to is a greater mission. And it is through this mission that we will be vindicated, and they shall thank us.

On this day, three cities have fallen. On this day, the weapon I’ve crafted has won us our freedom and prosperity.

-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 1st Note

Asgul was tired. His legs carried him forward, but it was only the rhythm of his footsteps that kept them moving. He wore flowing robes of orange that were dirty and torn. Even though he had muscles carved through years of effort, they did nothing to aid his condition. His throat was dried out and craving for even the smallest drop of liquid. How long had it been since he last drank?

A sound made him turn back. His wife, Yelana, had tripped a rock on their path. She jostled the little bundle in her arms, holding it like a greedy man might jewellery.

“Let me hold it,” Asgul said, his voice coming out hoarse and unfamiliar. Yelana shook her head.

“No… You might wake the child,” she replied, shooting him a look. Asgul chuckled. Despite the stress of the journey, Yelana hadn’t lost her sense of humour.

“Fine enough. But you still need rest,” he told her. He could bear the weight of the trip, but he worried that she might have troubles.

“It’s only a bit further. We can stop in the city itself,” Yelana replied. She held the child closer to herself and started to walk faster. Asgul took stock of his surroundings and wondered if that was necessarily true.

They had been travelling through forests, through rivers and plains, around mountains and beaches, just to reach Sanasira. They’d crossed with many of those who considered themselves living weapons, and even more of the prideful warriors that called this land home.

They always treated him with some apprehension. He was from neither of their lands and yet travelled them. Asgul chuckled. If only they knew what that meant.

But he didn’t trust them to. If they figured it out, Sanasira would have been lost to them. And that was a sacrifice he couldn’t afford. Ahead of him, Yelana climbed a rock as the baby began to cough. Asgul clambered up quickly and looked down at the bundle.

More coughs, this time faster and heavier. Yelana rocked the child back and forth, praying under her breath.

“You’ll be safe. You’ll be healthy. Please…” she muttered as Asgul looked onwards. She didn’t move from her spot, staring at the baby until Asgul rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You’ve borne it enough,” he said, gently cajoling the child out of her hands and into his own. It was so small it stabbed at his heart. If he had any hallowmancy about him, perhaps he could have done something to help, but he wasn’t so blessed.

Children of nowhere, returned to nowhere. He held the bundle close to himself, keeping the baby warm and quiet until it fell back into a slumber.

Yelana was silent for a while after. Asgul tried to get a comment out of her now and then, offered her a joke or some other small thought, but she was passive to it. They continued until a dirt path appeared before them.

Asgul sent a prayer upwards and stepped onto it, his feet thankful for the reprieve.

“Do you… do you think we’ll find a cure there?” Yelana asked.

“We have to. Nowhere else have we found any answers,” Asgul asked in turn. He gently bobbed his baby up and down as he walked, careful in keeping her content. Yelana glanced at him and away a moment later, continuing.

“The child seems quiet for now. Perhaps it’ll be fine?” Yelana replied. He could understand her plight. They’d sunk all their money into treatment, but nothing had come of it. The symptoms would resume, and the both of them would worry.

Asgul knew his guilt in the matter. Dragging a newly born baby and a recently pregnant woman across the country in the dim hope that they might find a cure was madness. But he was a committed man. It was the reason he’d been able to provide for them for so long. The reason Yelana had chosen to marry him in the first place.

As they crested another large hill, something came into sight that boggled the mind. Their path seemed too thin into a strand in the distance, leading into a set of mountains that curved backwards. Asgul couldn’t see the peaks of those mountains, but he knew they would be covered in snow.

A reminder of the cold, he felt a chill through him. Yelana pulled her wrappings closer against her body.

“Those… those are the mountains the merchant described!” Yelana said, vigour returning to her voice.

They scrambled over the hill, through the fallen logs and trees that covered their path. Closer and closer they came to the mountains, their breath leaving them in heaves.

“W-wait a moment!” Asgul shouted after Yelana, who was jogging at this point. The path curved upwards at the base of the mountains and led them further in. The mountains cast their shadows behind them and the sun dipped into the horizon. Yelana slowed down, but the glint in her eye never left.

Asgul had wrapped his baby in a cloth around his shoulders. The child swayed from side to side with each step, but showed no signs of waking.

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“What do you think we’ll name her, Asgul?” Yelana asked ahead of him. She wiped some sweat from her brow and took another step. Asgul followed a moment later, keeping his child in his eyes. We should’ve given you one when you were born, shouldn’t we?

“Asgul?” Yelana reiterated. She held a hand out for him and he took it in his hands. She heaved his heavy frame up, struggling. Yelana was careful to keep the baby steady.

“A name…” Asgul muttered, catching her attention.

“There must be some in that big rockhead of yours,” Yelana chuckled, then moved forward. A clearing between the peaks was present ahead of them. They walked over to it and a city presented under themselves.

Sanasira, sometimes called the center of Yarnza itself, had fallen long ago. Buildings and spires once golden lay in disrepair. Blocks of stone and piles of dust lay in the cracked streets of the city. No luster was present in any of the metal and no glass was left unblemished. Vines and trees were overgrown and unshorn. But what finally cracked the hope in Asgul’s and Yelana’s heart was the absence of life.

No songs played in the streets. There were no craftsmen finishing up their work, no children playing out later than they should. Hallowmancers didn’t light up the night sky with their red glow, nor did their eyes shine with the green hue that others of their kind displayed. There was only a dead settlement left.

“No… No! We need to go further. They must be hiding!” Yelana reasoned, dragging Asgul along with her as she climbed down from their point. She cut herself along the rocks, moving herself and Asgul so fast that even their baby woke up.

“Yelana…”

“No! Don’t say anything!” She screamed, not letting him interrupt. By the time they made it to the bottom of the hill, they were at the edge of the city. Yelana was covered in cuts, her baby was crying, but that did not prevent her search.

She ran from one end of the city to another, searching every house in her path. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even if it was apparent before her. Yelana pushed herself to the brink, bruising her feet as she worked.

She didn’t know when Asgul had slumped down against the wall, but she didn’t let it stop her. The least he could do is help her when he was the one who suggested to come here. But as always, it was up to her to make sure things were set right. That their child survived. That they got out of here alive.

Yelana continued in a fervour, coming to the palace at the back of the valley and entering. A house for a king, but without a king inside. No matter how long she searched, she couldn’t find anything. And when the night came, she had no light to search with.

She’d left that blind search behind as she exited the palace. Nothing inside, nothing outside. Nothing here, nothing there. It would’ve driven her to madness had she not become numb in her search. So, she decided to find Asgul instead.

Yelana walked through those paved stones with resentment. City of Gold. City of Knowledge. Nothing but a ruin of an old age that should have been forgotten instead of idolized. She sneered at the statues that dotted Sanasira, of kings that were rightfully forgotten.

Yelana smelt smoke in the air and looked upwards, seeing a thin wisp escape between the building tops. Asgul.

She walked towards where that smoke was coming from, feeling just how deeply the cold had gotten into her body. She felt like the chill had permeated her very bones with how heavily they shook.

We’ll be out of here soon enough. Where we can get her better treatment.

She consoled herself with those words, holding tight onto them for the moment. When she turned the corner, Asgul was there, sitting in front of the flame with blank eyes.

“Is the child alright?” Yelana asked. The baby deserved a name, Yelana knew, but she hadn’t come up with one this entire time. No time had felt right for it, in fact.

“Yes, sound asleep. I guess that comes from you,” he chuckled without a hint of humour in his voice.

Yelana’s stomach grumbled and she eyed the pack set against the wall. That pack had contained all of their belongings, including all the food they had used and lost. There were only a few disparate belongings left in it, clothes, bewllan crystals and needles.

Yelana walked over to Asgul’s side and slumped against the wall with him. She let the fire warm her as she let her emotions out in a sob.

“I… I really had thought we’d find some cure here.”

“As did I. But I shouldn’t have brought you both here. Not when we were so desperate,” Asgul replied. Yelana shook her head.

“You did the best you could, given what we had,” Yelana said in a sincere tone.

“Are you… mocking me again?”

She chuckled. His innocence was one of his most comforting attributes. She crept closer to him and rested her head against his shoulders.

“Can I…. hold it, just for a while?”

Asgul stared down at the bundle and back at her.

“Of course.”

He handed the baby to her and Yelana held it closer. No, not it. She. She held her daughter close to her shoulder, tears welling up in her eyes again.

“She’s so cold…” Yelana whispered, stuttering. We brought you into this world to be free and happy. And yet all you’ve done since birth is suffer with us. For us. Who would be so cruel as to inflict that punishment?

The fire grew smaller over time, dimming and dimming until even the flames felt cold. Asgul took his cloak and draped it over the three of them.

“Was there any water?” he asked. Yelana shook her head.

“None. The river was dried up and barren. I’m sorry…”

“It isn’t you who controls the rivers, love.”

She chuckled one last time, then quieted. The flame dissipated into embers and Asgul fell into a slumber. Yelana tried to shake him awake, but he wouldn’t listen to her. Of all times, now? She hated him for it, but she knew the same had come for her.

Hungry. Thirsty. Tired. She feared for what would happen if she closed her eyes. Or if she looked at Asgul’s in that moment. So, she didn’t. She just kept her daughter close to her, adjusting the cloak over her when she thought the baby might get cold.

Then a figure finally came into view. No embers lit him, so she could only see the shadow of the man. But he wasn’t just a man. The person who stood in front of her presented himself as a king.

She could only watch on as that figure approached. She had not the strength in her legs to take even a step further. But the figure did not harm her, did not thieve from her. It simply came up to her, crossing the hot embers as if they were sticks with heavy footsteps.

Then it stood, and it watched.

“P…Please… Help her…” Yelana begged, holding out her baby towards the king. The royal bent down and took a look at the child, then straightened his posture and began to move its hands in wild gestures.

He continued like this for a moment, stopping occasionally to get Yelana’s response. But the woman could not understand.

“What are you saying?” she said, and the figure would launch into another tirade. But the barrier was strong between them. No matter what movements he did, she remained clueless. Yelana’s arms grew tired from holding the baby up and she dropped them, forcing the king to catch her instead.

Yelana took deep breaths mixed with coughs, laying her head back against the wall.

“Please… just help her. She’s sick,” Yelana whispered finally. She looked over to Asgul, to his sweet sleeping face, then back at the king.

“Leane… he would’ve loved the name…”

Then Yelana’s voice went silent as she closed her eyes. The king cradled the child in his cold, cold hands. The baby woke up because of it, screaming and crying as he pulled her closer, even if he could not substitute for the warmth of a person.