Loran was a small farming town north of Lottie, resting in a shallow valley on the banks of a slow-running river. We rode amidst wide and rolling fields where many grape and citrus trees grew, and the once-vibrant fields now lay barren and naked. During the summertime, the town would have been a sight to behold, yet now, in the depths of winter, when all the crops had been harvested, all I could see was brown earth. It had been raining for many days, the passing locals said, and the ground was now hard from the nightly frost.
Further away, there grew some torpos trees here and there, and I could spot a few tall cypresses in the distance. We chose to take the leftward road that went along the town’s limits, and not go through the busy streets. Passing by the small buildings and hovels we did not draw much attention to ourselves for the populace had been stirred alive by the King’s presence. Messengers, couriers, soldiers, and a handful of the King’s Guards strolled along the gravel-covered streets, and the people seemed glad.
The sun was now setting early and the days would grow shorter still leading up to the solstice. Looking up, I saw the sky above was a mix of strong orange and deep blue and the air carried the scent of wine, bread, smoke, and the crisp chill of winter’s wind. Yet here, in the valley of Loran, that wind was calmer and it was warmer than it had been on the road.
We went along a white gravel road that led uphill towards the King’s estate—a modest, but pleasant-looking manor house, painted in bright yellow and white and with a roof of weathered copper, now green from long years. Flanking the road on either side was a meticulously tended garden, with thick bushes cut and made into winding shapes. And just before the main entrance was a wide fountain with a teal-blue statue of Hanuos, the Giver and Nourisher of earth, pouring water from a glass pitcher into a basin.
And there, in front of the double doors stood Rainier Pitties, Royal Advisor, arms behind his back, and his chin held high. His attention had been on us even before we reached the town, and I’d felt the radiance of his soul for quite some time as well.
“Absolutely no sneaking or wandering around!” said Iskander sternly before we were in earshot of anyone.
“Is, do you really think I’d do that?” asked Jaxine and looked upon the well-kept estate. “I wonder if they have a secret room, where they take the king when there’s some danger…”
“No sneaking around!” repeated Iskander.
“Fine, fine. No sneaking and no wandering. I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”
“Shush! They can hear you,” said Florencia as we neared the first red-cloaked King’s Guard, holding his halberd straight at his side.
We had already seen them throughout the town, clad in red and gold, wearing gleaming cuirasses of steel and their plumed helmets waving in the soft wind. Tall men they were, guarding the King, and each of them had basic magic coursing through their veins. I sensed they could sense the thoughts of weaker men, and anticipate their actions without much trouble. I wondered how these men would fight alongside me.
As we passed the statue of Hanuos, Rainier Pitties stood unmoving, watching us. I had last seen him in person in Estalarch not much more than two months ago, yet it felt as if it had been in another life. In some ways, I guess, it had been another life. Much has changed since then, and my memories have also returned to me. I was beginning to feel like an actual person, not just a tool against the Enemy.
With Jace and Iskander’s help, sternly observed by a dozen of the King’s Guard, I dismounted Velluta. I had to ignore a dull, throbbing pain in my shoulder that, luckily, lessened with each passing day. Jace had cured the curse of Rasmog, yet it lingered still in my blood and bones. It might take many weeks until I was rid of it entirely.
Then, Rainier Pitties stepped forth, welcoming us with open arms, as one would an old friend, and I felt glad.
He moved with a lively gait, standing tall and powerful—in Florencia’s mind, the most powerful mage in Lienor—but concealing his tired state from the others. He wore long robes of black and gold, made from thick and smooth cloth, and bearing the royal emblem of the double-headed lion on his chest.
The others greeted him with excessive politeness and reverence, and Pitties shook Florencia’s hand before turning his attention to me. He must have talked with them while I lay sick and unconscious.
And then, at last, he stood in front of me and, with a quiet and soft tone yet his eyes alight with empyrean powers, said: “It is good to see you again, Mr. Espian. It is a delight to see you on your feet again, and it gladdens my heart in ways you might not understand. I thought you might be broken from the battles, but you seem to be regaining your strength. Though… I sense the poison still within you. Please, come, you must be weary from the journey. I will ask our apothecaries for some remedy.”
“It’s not needed—”
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Pitties waved away my attempts at politeness. “I’m afraid I must insist. There’s much to discuss and little time. You shall have time to rest and regather your thoughts, but not yet.”
He turned to address everyone, keeping his tone casual and carefree: “Our Majesty is away on business and will return tomorrow. Now, my dear guests, please come inside. We have prepared refreshments and warm food and comfortable rooms for all.”
The King’s estate was understated from the outside, but inside was lavish and opulent. The floor was made from polished marble with cloudy white and brown patterns running straight and crisscrossed and the yellow and white plastered walls were covered in old and new paintings and decorative carpets. As we walked into the grand hall, our footsteps were drowned out by the many of the estate’s staff and the hard heels of the ever-present King’s Guard.
“I shall leave you here, at the hands of the Master of the House, who will show you to your quarters, and answer to your requests and demands,” said Pitties. “But I will talk to Mr. Espian in private.”
I shot Florencia a quick glance and she replied with a weak smile. I knew she wanted to come along, but Pitties had already moved forward and the matter was decided. There was no contesting the wishes of the Royal Advisor.
With a confident stride, he guided me through the King’s estate and out onto a wide balcony that had a sweeping view of the vast, naked fields and ancient and gnarled trees growing on the outskirts. Under my boot lay a polished marble floor of deep maroon. Along the wall and under a canopy of wide, orange leaves, a pair of lounging couches were laid out, and beside them was a buffet boasting steaming slices of bread, meat of all kinds, tea, wine, and more.
Quickly Rainier Pitties turned to face me and, with his psychic might luminous behind his eyes, he spoke: “Jonas Espian, I’m very glad to see you healthy and recuperating. The previous time I saw you, you lay in that bed and looked as if you might not survive that cursed poison. I feared we might lose you and for a few days, I was losing hope. But it delights my heart to see you’ve regained much of your strength, but also… grown in spirit.”
He shook my hand vigorously and I felt he spoke the truth. And even though I was similarly glad to see him, I was taken aback by his sincere words and expression on his wearied face.
“Thank you, Mr. Pitties, I’m happy to be healing as well,” I said politely and decided not to spare the truth. He would most definitely notice. “The cause of the change that you sense is after I woke up from my sleep, I regained my memories from my childhood. Now, I feel like myself again, like Jonas Espian, and not only as a man who wears his name. But now, I think the sooner I get back on my feet, the sooner I can help with whatever is going on in the north.”
“Never mind that, Mr. Espian.” He waved us towards the buffet and poured some warm wine for the both of us. “Please, eat something. I sense you’re tired from your journey. The salted meat and blue cheese are splendid. They’re locally made and I know the maker personally. He’s a good man and his wife is very quiet but clever. And the wine and liqueur are exceptional. They do make very fine liqueur here in Loran.”
I took a healthy bite out of the triangular-cut blue cheese and it, indeed, tasted delightful, though its strong flavor and smell took some getting used to. I refilled my glass with some more warm wine, which had now cooled down somewhat, and drank it as swiftly as the last glass.
As Pitties said, the food and drink here tasted leagues better than in Rosalda’s temple and the curse-borne pain lessened.
“Before we continue, Mr. Espian, may I ask to use your first name when we are in private? I think we’re both past beyond formalities.”
“Only if I can use yours, Rainier,” I replied and he smiled, again with a warm sincerity.
“Thank you, Jonas. Yet, let’s reserve our familiarity for private and trusted companies. Maintaining a certain demeanor will be crucial in less trustworthy circles.”
I nodded but did not quite understand what he meant.
“Now Jonas, please tell me everything as you experienced it! What happened, along with your emotions and thoughts is crucial, I think. Please spare no detail, if you can. I know what happened in general, as I’ve talked with Miss Regalla, who is just a spectacular person and I wish I’d met her sooner. I’ve also exchanged words with Mr. Karis and Miss Penkios to hear their side of the battle, and with Mr. Vialisios who is a fascinating person. But I wish to hear the full story from you. Please do me this favor, I know retelling it is difficult, but it must be done!”
I was glad Florencia warned me that he would ask me to do this, and I told him everything, as best I could, leaving out only the intricacies of the connection between me and Goxhandar, and using blood magic. I knew the mere use of it was deeply disapproved. I also did not tell him about the strange dream I had, which was now only a distant, fading memory. I could not remember a single detail about it.
And as I retold the terrible battle before the white peaks of the Castalmand Mountains, Pitties sat on the edge of the couch and leaned forward. For the entire time, he didn’t seem to blink, utterly enraptured in my narration.
“Utterly fascinating!” he said after I’d finished, and suddenly I felt his psychic weight examine me. “You suppress a strong grief over the loss of the corisseri. I didn’t sense that before, I apologize. Their loss is a dreadful thing, of course, and their sacrifice was not in vain! They are heroes and are celebrated as such. I know that Prince Ames wishes to rename the regiment in honor of the late captain.”
“Everyone keeps telling me that their deaths were noble and necessary during times of war, but no words have eased my grief.”
“In war, not all sacrifices are rewarded equally, yet that reward does not speak of their heroism nor their bravery,” said Pitties. “While you do not see their death and your survival as fair, I see it as the hand of Fate, and the most grand victory for us. I hope I am not overstepping in saying that.”
“I can’t see a grand victory, Rainier. All I can see is more work. We only managed to stave off the Long Night.”
He nodded and was silent for a moment.
“Indeed, the danger has only been but postponed, and there is much work before us,” said Pitties and the fire in his eyes burned fiercely. He leaned in. “But we have won a victory on the fields of Poscale and the valley of the Krastarn Pass and this is no small thing. Jonas, in order to prepare you for tomorrow, I need to bring you up to the events that are currently unfolding. Much has changed…”