The homestead was a well-constructed and maintained if slightly aged structure. The property was similar in that everything that could be seen was of good quality and in good condition but not necessarily flashy or brand new. Modest taste seemed the theme.
Although the sun was only just rising the lights and snippets of conversations escaping the windows revealed that the occupants were getting an early start. Probably just finishing breakfast. At least that part of his briefing had been correct.
Travel time estimates had been badly off. It turned out that ‘three days’ travel’ meant something very different if you never got tired, never slowed down and never stopped. Gloe had slipped out of town with the morning rush and just kept going. As far as he could tell no one had noted his departure, and there was no sign of anyone following him. Of course it wasn’t impossible that someone was tracking him, but if so they were quite far back. An acceptable risk. Hopefully.
Besides, for the aforementioned reasons he had arrived well ahead of schedule, forcing him to wait out the night. Anyone tracking him likely would have come in range during that period. Since no one had that probably meant he was clear to proceed. And if not…he shrugged mentally. If not, he was so outmatched that likely nothing he tried would do any good.
He had deliberately been tuning out the conversation but now his enhanced hearing heard running water and the rattle of tableware. The meal was drawing to a close. Time to get moving. Standing, he brushed himself off slightly. During the night he’d jumped in a nearby creek and scrubbed himself, clothes and all. He was clean, but his outfit had dried a bit funnily in the dark of night. Oh well.
A moment took him to the front door and he knocked, firmly enough to be heard but not so hard as to imply urgency. Sounds of unalarmed surprise came from within, and after a few minutes a young man answered the door. “Can I help you?”
“Hopefully.” Gloe smiled unthreateningly. The resemblance wasn’t extraordinary, but he could see it. “I have a delivery for Csord or Kacyn. A letter with an associated package.” He held up both. “Is either available?”
“A delivery?” The young man frowned. “You’re not our mailman.”
“I’m acting on behalf of a friend. He asked me to drop these off in his stead.”
“That’s…odd. Well, you can give them to me.”
“That is kind of you, but I’m afraid not. I promised to only turn these over to Kacyn or Csord. Do you know when they’ll be back?” The young man seemed oddly hesitant. “You are Oreko, are you not?”
“How do you know my name?”
“My friend was very detail-oriented when he gave me my packages and instructions. I cannot promise this delivery will bring your family happiness, but I truly doubt you will regret receiving it. If you are worried convince your mother or father to let you examine the letter first. I just need to hand it to one of them. My friend didn’t say anything about forcing them to read it.”
Still he seemed uncertain. Finally he acquiesced. “Fine. Pa! It’s for you!”
An older man rounded the corner. Age and a lifetime of hard work were clearly taking their toll on him, but he wasn’t going out without a fight. Still trim and fit he moved with just a hint of stiffness, as if he were still working out the kinks from a solid night’s sleep. His face was beginning to wrinkle, but deep laugh lines suggested he was taking that with good grace too. “What is it son? I was starting to worry you’d gotten lost on the way to the door.”
“He…this gentleman has a delivery he’ll only give to you or Ma.”
“My apologies sir. I promised a friend I’d only give this to you or Kacyn. Here you are.” He balanced the box and envelope neatly on a windowbox. “I’ll take my leave now. I understand the creek marks the western edge of your property. I’ll wait on the far side for a couple of hours, so you can find me if you want to send a reply.”
Csord frowned. “This is all very mysterious. If this is a prank by the Sienee brothers they’re certainly going above and beyond this time.”
“I assure you sir, this is no prank. It is however, a matter that requires a reasonable amount of discretion. I’m sure you’ll understand once you have read the letter. I apologize.” Bowing slightly Gloe retreated.
...
It was pleasant in the shade of the trees, even though the wind was cool, especially where it crossed over the creek. Gloe didn’t really mind the cold all that much anymore. As long as he was uninjured he pretty much healed all minor damage as soon as it came in. It didn’t leave room for becoming too uncomfortable. It was like the first few moments of entering the cold from a warm room: bracing, not yet troubling.
Still in range of homestead too, if he focused. He wasn’t actively keeping tabs on them, just doing regular sweeps in all directions, making certain nothing went amiss. Lots of overflowing emotions over there, but nothing that seemed like a threat to him or them. He let them be.
Eventually one of the sources detached itself and approached the creek. It was Oreko. “Uh, they would like you to come up to the house. Please.”
“Of course.” Springing up Gloe leapt the creek. “Lead on.”
Oreko’s jaw dropped. “O-okay.” They proceeded in silence for a few minutes. “Aren’t you cold?”
Gloe smiled. “It’s not too bad. I did some warm-ups before you arrived.” That wasn’t strictly speaking a lie. He did still stretch and warm-up sometimes. He didn’t have to really, but there was no sense in accepting completely unnecessary stress on his body. Besides, just because discomfort was often minimized and pain was something he had learned to tolerate that didn’t mean he enjoyed them. He liked comfort as much as the next person, it was just a bit lower on his list of priorities.
The inside of the home was in just as good condition as the exterior, but warmer. Not just physically either- the walls and shelves were dotted with mementos, home-made gifts and obvious little valuable objects in places of honor. Most interesting was the wall of pictures.
Photography didn’t exist here, but images could be captured or replicated via magic. Not just through spells and abilities either, various generalized magical devices could do it too. The problem was that those could only be made by magical craftsman of various types, so they were still relatively rare and expensive. The government had them, rich families had them, news organizations had them, but regular people did not.
Instead they went to professionals, and only on special occasions. The wall had pictures of various parts of the extended family grouped together at such times. Festivals, marriages and the like. They looked nice. Happy. Gloe felt an unusual pang, if only for a moment. He had a feeling this was going to be a bit more painful than he’d hoped. His smile stayed strong though. Nothing like being tortured to keep things in perspective. Overall his mission here was a joyful one.
“Is it true?” Kacyn asked shakily. “Is our Oresus really alive?”
“It is, but I’m afraid I don’t have an additional proof to append.”
“What did he mean by saying you’d check to see if it’s safe? Is he is alive why isn’t he here?” Csord demanded.
“It was his first priority” Gloe assured him. “As soon as he could he checked to see what the official story regarding Tranche was. That’s when he hesitated, because he doesn’t know precisely what you were told and, more importantly, who told it to you. In short- if he shows up here in person who is going to be shown to be a liar, and what are they going to do about it?”
All three listeners leaned back at that, thinking. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Tranche fell a certain way, the official story is different. Oresus is alive, but what is their story?”
“The Commandant’s aide said that they retreated in good order. He said they left no one behind” Oreko said slowly.
Kacyn caught on first. “Lermek told us he saw our Oresus die. Said a long-armed demonling came over the wall and…”
“…Oresus fought but his sword couldn’t keep up” Oreko finished.
“Well that’s odd” Gloe said gently. “Oresus has been a spearman as long as I’ve known him. Who is Lermek?”
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
An odd glint came into Csord’s eyes at the mention of the spear. He stood. “Young man, if you’re lying to us for some reason you should leave. Right now. Obviously you’ve done your research, but if this is a scam you should leave. You give false hope to my family and I will kill you.”
“Huh.” Gloe didn’t move. “Well thank you for the warning, but I’m not lying. Also, and perhaps this is a small bit of proof I can offer: you probably can’t kill me.” He stretched out his left arm, turning his gaze to the son. “You’ve got an axe or poker or something tucked around the corner there. Hit me with it.”
“What?” Oreko glanced uneasily around the corner he was standing near. “I…”
“A good idea really. You couldn’t know you can’t hurt me. Hit my arm.”
“No, I…”
“Okay, punch me first. Please. I need to try to convince you people of my sincerity somehow.”
Unsteadily Oreko stepped closer. One step away he transitioned into a practiced strike, bringing his fist down like a hammer on the joint. He let out a groan and stepped back, clutching his hand.
“That was pretty good. I can see you felt it. Now try again, this time with whatever you’ve got back there.”
Oreko looked at his parents but they seemed confused. Decisively he stalked towards the corner. There’d been a sledgehammer back there. He hefted it, then rushed forward, smashing it down on Gloe’s forearm. It bounced.
“There, you see. If you hit Oresus you would get similar results. That’s what it takes to survive certain situations. And now you know if I wanted anything from you I could simply take it. Who is Lermek?”
“One of the viscount’s sons. Not chosen, but still an officer.” Csord sat down wearily. “Oresus really is alive?”
“Yes. So if he shows up here your local nobleman’s son will be shown to have lied.”
“So that pestilent little bag of snot made up a story about Oresus so we would leave the army alone?” Kacyn suddenly snapped.
Gloe shrugged. “I can’t be sure of his motivation. I do know that Oresus was not killed at Tranche, almost never wields a sword and is too powerful to fall to one ‘long-armed demonling,’ at least now. I also know that no one who ‘retreated’ with the commandant was actually present at the fall of Tranche, while Oresus was.”
“They were busy running away while my son was fighting for his life? And then they lied to protect their precious reputations? Those old slopbags cared more about their good names than my boy? We should go tell everyone that they’re liars and cowards!”
“Calm down Ma. We don’t know that he’s telling the truth” Csord moved over next to her.
“Show me how he holds a spear” Oreko suddenly interjected. Gloe cocked his head and the young man expanded the thought. “Here’s a broom. If you really are his friend you should have some memory of his grip. Show me.”
“That’s a good idea.” Gloe took the broom and closed his eyes, adjusting. When they opened his body language had changed. He took the broom and ran it through the back of his shirt. Drawing it he held it up, twirling it before his eyes, visually inspecting it for defects. Then he held it at length, checking that it hadn’t warped or skew. Finally he gave it a half-twirl, resting one end on the ground.
Oreko opened his mouth to continue, but Gloe moved on. “At first he used it like this” his hands spaced out about two-thirds of the down the haft. “He shortened his grip a bit because it gave him better control. He also liked being able to bring the butt up in a surprise chin-strike.” He demonstrated. “But he’s stronger now, so he usually holds it here.” His grip slid down to closer to the butt. “He flicks the point out rapidly to prick and push enemies, then rotates his wrists to allow him to quickly launch powerful stabs. This position also lets him sweep the spear around to use the haft like a staff or club in a pinch, but I don’t have enough room to demonstrate that here.”
Oreko stumbled over to a chair and sat down. “Pa, I believe him. We never told you but I pestered Oresus to show me how to use a spear. He showed me the drills, but he said…” his voice began to escape his control. “…he did it differently because he wasn’t quite…” breaking down partially he just waved his hand at Gloe “…it looked like that. Just like that.” He buried his face in his hands, shaking with only the occasional sniffle breaking his silence.
“He’s alive. He’s really alive?” Csord seemed almost unwilling to allow himself to believe.
“I was with him last week. He’d be here himself if he wasn’t worried about causing trouble for ya’ll. Does the viscount have anyone nearby who would recognize him?”
“Yes.” Kacyn seemed to be just as angry as Oreko was overcome. “His odious constables are always prowling around, sticking their noses where they don’t belong!”
For his part Csord seemed to still be wrapping his head around the whole thing. “If Oresus didn’t die at Tranche what happened to him? Where has he been all this time?”
That gave Gloe pause. “Ah. Well if he didn’t tell you in the letter I can explain. But you should consider if you actually want me to. You’ll have to keep what I tell you a secret, for your own safety. It’s not just about your son, it’s the truth of what happened at Tranche. Additionally, once you know you can’t un-hear it. Oresus probably wanted to spare you the details. Make certain you actually do want to know first. Otherwise I can just say that a lot happened, but he came out stronger.”
“Kacyn, I would like to know.” Csord’s voice was calm now. “But if it will distress you, or if you’ll have trouble refraining from strangling that little shit Lermek, then I’ll be fine.”
She softened a bit. “I can control my temper when I have to Csord. You know that.” A tiny smile sprang to her lips. “More than anyone.”
“Yes.” He gripped her hand fiercely. “Sit down and tell us. Please.”
Acquiescing Gloe took his place in a soft guest chair. “Alright. When Laukis came for Tranche most of the officers and such decamped rapidly during the night.” A hiss came from Kacyn and he had to restrain a smile because it sounded so much like Emokha. “Laukis’ forces were substantial and Tranche was overrun in short order. Most of the defenders were slaughtered.”
“Oresus had leveled up in the skirmishing over the months preceding the final attack, so he was only injured. They took him to a work camp.” He looked Csord in the eyes. “I don’t think he’d be happy with me if I said too much, so I’ll pass over the details. After a while he and two companions escaped. While trying to lose our pursuers we ambushed and counter-attacked as often as we could, leveling up and managing to acquire some healing items.”
“This went on for some time. Eventually the cordon was closing in, but we were close enough to the border that a raiding party found us. They made much of the foreign sojourner with us, and Oresus was able to get away with not saying who he was, but it’s a thin disguise. Even if the viscount wasn’t angry about his son being proven a liar Oresus is concerned that if his identity is known they might go after you to pressure the sojourner to cooperate.”
“Is he alright?” Kacyn’s voice was soft.
“I’m not going to lie to you, it wasn’t a fun experience. He’s different from the way he was before. Quieter. More cautious. But he’s damaged, not broken.” He hesitated for a moment. “You should prepare yourselves though. Not only was a lot done to him but he’s done a lot. He had to fight his way out of demon territory. When the time comes you will recognize him, but it may take a minute.”
“What did they do to my boy?”
“I’m not going to answer that. It’s not my place. It was bad, but we acquired a powerful healing potion, so he’s mostly recovered. He’s healthy and strong.”
“You were there? You served with Oresus?”
“Yes and no. I was a prisoner at Tranche. Convicted of poaching. Oresus was one of the few guards who was pleasant. We were separated at the fall, but met again while escaping. Both of us were reasonably sure the other wouldn’t stab someone in the back, so we teamed up.”
“A prisoner?” Csord’s suspicion had never fully gone away.
Gloe shrugged. “Sometimes the truth is inconvenient. I told Oresus I wouldn’t lie to you, so…”
“What about this sojourner? A foreigner? What does that mean?”
“I can’t tell you too much there. If you let even one detail slip it would give the game away. The authorities are trying to recruit said sojourner, and they’re very interested in upping the pressure. That said, this nation is not the only group Laukis is fighting with. The sojourner was captured during a fight elsewhere and wound up in the same camp as Oresus. They became friends.”
“Not you though.”
“I was being held elsewhere. When I arrived at the camp we were able to team up and escape.”
“I don’t like how vague you’re being. It makes me uneasy.”
Gloe stood. “I understand and respect that, but I can’t be more specific. It could endanger them. I’ve done what I could to convince you. I’ve delivered the letter and package. That’ll have to be good enough for now. Given time hopefully Oresus can find a way to sneak in for a visit.”
“That raises a question.” Csord was relentless. “Why were you able to come see us and he wasn’t? Aren’t you concerned someone will recognize an escaped convicted prisoner?”
“A minor criminal with no family or associates, presumed dead for years? Aside from my compatriots there might be a handful of people in the world who would recognize me, and none of them are likely to be here. Besides, unlike Oresus my ability has stealth applications.”
That got Oreko’s attention. “Then he did figure it out? His last letter…” he trailed off again.
“That’s part of the purpose of the package. If someone asks you can say Oresus had them sent before he died and the package got misplaced. But you’ll know the truth.”
Standing, Oreko went to the table and stood over the package. “I’ve never seen wood like this before.”
“There is no other wood like that. He grew it specifically for you.”
“He’s gotten better at carving.” Oreko extracted a tiny wooden figure and looked at it critically. “He got my nose wrong though.”
“He was going off of memory. He lost his picture of you all. The demons have different ideas about proper prisoner of war etiquette.”
Joining her son at the table Kacyn brushed her hand over the figures. “All of these are from memory?”
“He wanted you to know he’s never stopped thinking about you, or loving you.”
“He’s missing one.” Her voice caught for a second. “Sanya had a daughter last year. Eresa.”
“He can make an addition once he meets her.” Gloe took a step back. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time. If you want to write a reply you should do so. If someone notices none of you working like normal today it might raise questions, and none of you are in condition to lie convincingly.”
“Maybe you’re right. I don’t want you to be, but I’m not thinking very clearly right now. I’m sure tomorrow I’ll realize exactly what I should have said and done.” Csord laughed weakly. “Give us an hour. We’ll have a letter for you. And then back to work.”
...
It was a long letter. They obviously hadn’t taken the time to compose or edit, just poured words onto pages. Gloe carefully wrapped it in waterproof material before securing it in a pouch. “For what it’s worth, my condolences and congratulations. Hopefully he can see you soon, but if not know that he misses and loves you.”
“If you’re telling the truth then any friend of Oresus is a friend of ours. If not…I swear I’ll find some recourse.”
“Fair enough.”
“Will he be safe? Can you keep him safe?”
Gloe sighed. “No. No one is safe. But he’s strong and smart and motivated. We’ll help him as much as we can. Maybe things will work out this time.” He straightened. “He loves you though. That’s guaranteed. That’s real. Remember that.” He leapt into the forest canopy and was gone.