“This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.”

“Stop being so dramatic.”

“But Rayza.” Ionyr whined, pointing at the beautifully overgrown cave. “There’s a perfectly good cave right there! Just look at it! It’s practically begging to be explored!”

Rayza sighed, clearly frustrated. “There’s probably just dirt and roots in there. Like every other cave we’ve tried so far.”

“But what if there isn’t?” Ionyr said, though he knew it was a weak rebuttal at best.

“Alright. Let’s say there’s some grand adventure to be had in that cave. What, pray tell, will we do with Ciel?” Rayza pat her head for emphasis. “She can’t come with us. It’d be too dangerous.”

“Oh, come on, she’s big enough.”

“No she’s not, and you know it.” Rayza narrowed her eyes.

Yeah, he was stretching it, just a bit. Ciel had grown a lot since they left the forest, to the size of a four, maybe five year old. And to think it’s only been a few weeks.

“Besides, why are you so intent on checking out every vaguely interesting landmark we come across?” Rayza turned away and spurred her horse forward.

Why, indeed? Ionyr had been asking himself the same thing. On their journey home, they passed by many caves, glades and ruins. Admittedly, none of them had really piqued his interest. He didn’t even understand why he was so invested in these tiny detours. Having found the Creators, his appetite for adventure should have been sated. They couldn’t afford taking unnecessary risks anymore, Rayza was right about that.

So why did he still feel that hunger? Why did that desire not go away?

“Papa…coming?” Ciel asked, peeking around her mother.

“Come on, stop sulking.” Rayza said, looking back at him. “Postitia is just over the hill.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Sighing, Ionyr spurred his horse into a medium pace. He quickly caught up to the two, noticing that Ciel was still staring at him. Still as blank as ever, that expression.

Because of her incredible growth spurt, she didn’t fit into her sling anymore. So now she sat in front of Rayza in the saddle. Luckily, they came across some travelling merchants, and Ionyr had bought her a child-sized blue dress, along with a worn hooded cloak. Rayza had kept her hidden then - because of her hair. Now just under shoulder length and as pure white as could be, Ciel’s hair stood out like a sore thumb. White hair wasn’t exactly common in these parts - or any parts of the world, for that matter.

If someone saw that unnatural hair colour, rumours would spread. Ionyr shuddered to think of what might happen. He didn’t know what was worse. Bandits kidnapping her to sell her off at the black market, the Ashen Order labelling her a demon and killing her.

I mean hey, then Rayza might try for another child.

Did he really just think that? By the Four, what an awful father he was.

“Papa?”

“Yeah, what’s up Ciel?” He forced a smile.

She put a hand on her chest, looked down at it for a short moment, then turned up her head again to meet his gaze. After a short pause, she tilted her head.

“Everything okay?” Ionyr asked, though still, no response.

Eventually, she nodded, but continued staring at him with curiosity in her eyes, as well as something approaching…uncertainty?

What was that about?

“Look, Ciel.” Rayza tapped her shoulder to get her attention, then pointed ahead. “You can almost see it from here.”

Trotting over the crest of the hill, the city of Postitia finally came into view. It was blinding at first, the sunlight reflecting off of the magnificent towers’ silver-coated roofs, each of them a nest for Firemane’s Manticore. Also of silver make, the statues kept the great city under their vigil with a stern, yet kind expression.

Few houses besides the Ashen Order’s cathedral in the center reached over Postitia’s great stone wall.

The only other rival to its splendour was a wide wooden structure towering into the sky, just short of the cathedral. There were big, round holes all over it, slightly filled with straw. Even from this far away, one could see small shadows zipping in and out of them. The structure sat atop an even wider hall made of the same materials, wooden walls and a roof of straw.

Ionyr always felt the urge to visit Raev when they came here. Architecture from the Isles felt exotic like nothing he’d ever seen in Idyllis. Imagine, if this is how the Merchant Federation built their hub in another country, just how did they do it on their own soil? Then again, not like travelling was an option. Not any time soon.

He glanced at Ciel. Her eyes were blank, yet…for the first time, they were fixated on something other than him or Rayza. She was staring at the Postage Pen, almost like she was watching those small shadows.

“...birds.” Ciel said slowly, tilting her head. “And...dragon…flies?”

“Yes!” Rayza clapped her hands excitedly. “You got it!”

“You can see ‘em from here…?” Ionyr scratched his chin. “Colour me impressed.”

“That’s the Postage Pen, where all letters that travel Idyllis eventually pass through.” Rayza ignored his comment and leaned down, pointing at the big wooden tower. “Those birds and dragonflies are the mailmen. Look closely. They’re bigger than normal, right?”

Ciel looked without even squinting her eyes. After a short pause, she nodded.

“That’s because the merchants managed to breed a race of birds and dragonflies that are perfect for delivering our letters, even overseas.” He’d rarely seen his wife get this passionate about explaining stuff to him.

…was he seriously getting jealous of his own kid? Grow up.

“Breed?” Ciel asked.

Rayza froze. Ionyr couldn’t hold back a chuckle. This sounded like the perfect job for a dirty-minded idiot. She glanced at him, begging for help. Honestly, he had half a mind to let her struggle for a bit.

“Papa? What is…‘breed’?” Ciel followed her mother’s gaze and turned to him.

Drat. Well, what goes around comes around.

“Yeah, Papa.” Rayza grinned. “What’s ‘breed’?”

“Weren’t you so excitedly explaining this a moment ago, Miss Know-it-all?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “The definition of that word slipped my mind, though. Can’t know everything.”

Ionyr sighed, and scratched his head, thinking of a child-friendly way to phrase it. “Breed…breed…how do I…?” He grumbled. “It’s like…they were born for this job. Simplest way to explain it.”

“Huh.” Rayza seemed impressed. Her eyes said: “Good save.”

Ciel closed her eyes and put her hand on her chin. Heh, looked like him for a split second. After a moment, she opened her eyes.

“Was Papa…born for…adventure?” She pointed at the Pen. “Like birds…and dragonflies…for job?”

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. Born…for adventure? Was that it? Was that the reason why everything seemed to stir his insatiable lust to explore? Maybe. Would explain why finally finding proof of the Creators’ existence didn’t abate his hunger one bit. If anything, he was now in want of an even higher hurdle to overcome.

What did a mad dog like him do when there was no mountain to climb? Search for another. Without dangers to brave and conquer, what did he have left?

His marriage? Or rather, the scraps left of it after a ravenous little Star ate it all up?

Damn it. He did it again.

Gritting his teeth, Ionyr pressed out an answer to Ciel’s question. “Maybe.” Shit. That was harsher than he intended. “Quite a deep question. Don’t know the answer to that, myself.” He quickly tried laughing it off, but Rayza’s shocked expression destroyed any notions he had of sweeping it under the rug.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

He let it slip. Now Rayza knew just how unhappy he was. And how awful a father that made him.

Did that make him a bad husband, too? Maybe.

Ashamed, Ionyr refused to meet her gaze, averting his eyes. He saw her shooting him a look every now and then, but she didn’t attempt to break the silence. Ciel glanced between them, but remained quiet herself. Maybe she was better at reading cues than he gave her credit for.

After descending the hill, they reached the paved road leading into the city. The stones forming it were dirty and worn. No wonder, with how many merchant caravans passed through on the daily. There were dark red stains on them, alongside the remains of what was likely a barrel. Telltale signs of a bandit raid.

Passing the broken barrel, the smell of day-old wine wafted in Ionyr’s nose. No surprise there, wine was a commonly traded good in Idyllis, especially in this region. And expensive wine takes care of a bandit's two most important needs - booze and money.

Then again, this wine didn’t smell particularly good, so it probably wasn’t all that expensive. Too strong of an iron-like sting in it. Or maybe that was just the blood of the merchants mixed in.

They rode to the gates in silence. Honestly, Ionyr was surprised by the lack of caravans they came across. Sure, bandits were out and about, but that’s nothing new. There were still usually long queues stretching out from the gates. But the closer they got to the city border, the more he realised that there were no merchants out here - neither entering nor leaving the city.

Nothing else seemed unusual. The stables in front of the gate appeared to be doing business as usual, though the young stablehand seemed a little antsy. When he saw them, he immediately darted indoors. Odd. Ionyr glanced at Ciel, and sure enough, her hood was up. So the boy was scared of something else.

Why, he wondered, is it so quiet out here?

They rode up to the wooden gate. Three emblems were arranged in a triangle pattern. On the left, emblazoned on a bronze background, sat the Dragon of the Spring, one of the Four Eternals. On the right, the white serpent with black eyes, Idyllis’ mark of shame, wrapped around a broken sceptre, on a golden background.

“Halt.” A man in chainmail stepped before them, bearing the insignia of the Ashen Order on his chest. The winged golden lion with the fiery red mane, on a silver background. Same as the third and last symbol on the door, sitting above the other two. “Identify yourselves.”

The man’s hand was on his sword. Ionyr could see another man watching them warily from the guardhouse beside the gate. Yeah, something was up. Security wasn’t this tight.

“We’re travellers.” Rayza said. “Here to post some letters.” He could see her shoot him a glance in his peripheral vision. Still unable to make eye contact, he cast his gaze down.

“To whom?” The man from the Order narrowed his eyes, gripping his sword tightly.

“Why is that important?” She asked, but the soldier drew his blade.

“I’m asking the questions here.” He hissed. “To whom are you sending these letters?”

Rayza’s eye twitched. She was already on-edge as is, but with the soldier pressing the issue…oh no.

“Now listen here…!”

Ionyr quickly interrupted her, attempting to de-escalate the situation. “It’s to my brother. And a good friend.”

“Why?” The soldier said sharply.

“Want my daughter to finally meet her uncle.” He pointed at Ciel, who was curiously watching it all unfold.

Immediately, the soldier’s face softened, and he let go of his sword. “My apologies. I didn’t see her there.” He smiled at Ciel. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scared? What’s that?” She responded in her usual blank tone

“Brave one, ain’t you?” The soldier laughed. “You know, I got a daughter at home. Think she’s just about your age.”

“Nope, definitely not.” Ionyr thought, watching the situation carefully. If that man got a little too close and saw her hair…

“Why don’t you take that hood off? It’s a shame, hiding your pretty face like that.” The soldier came closer.

Rayza quickly pushed the hood down.

“What are you doing?” The man asked, and all he got in response was an indignant glare.

“Sorry, she, uh…got a sunburn.” Ionyr chimed in, trying to smooth things over.

“A sunburn?” He wasn’t buying it.

“...yes.”

“In spring?”

“...yes?” Admittedly, not his best lie. Even Rayza looked offended by how terrible a lie it was.

“Come on, stop messing with me.” The soldier laughed. “What’s the real reason? Afraid she’ll steal my heart?” He waved it off like a bad joke. “Relax. I’m in the Order, sure, but I’m not despicable. I’m a guardsman after all.”

“You cheat at cards though. Every time.” The other, older soldier walked out and pulled him away. “Now get back to your post.”

“But…” His rebuttal was cut off by a simple glare from the other soldier. “Fine…” He sulkily trudged back into the guardhouse.

“Sorry about him.” The grizzled man turned to them. “He’s a good lad at heart.”

“Yeah, I could tell.” Ionyr said, shooting Rayza a glance. She refused to make eye contact with the soldier. “What did he do to end up in the Ashen Order?”

“Pickpocketing. And attempted robbery of an officer’s wallet.” He patted the pouch on his belt. “This one, to be exact.”

“I see. How many years?”

“I let him off easy. One year on patrol, two in the guard.”

Ionyr raised an eyebrow. “That’s unusual. Wouldn’t it be double that?”

The officer scratched his chin in thought. “Maybe. I’ve gotten soft over the years.” He had a small smile on his lips. “Did it for his daughter. Can’t fault him for that.”

“Fair enough. Take it you didn’t send him on his pilgrimage, either?”

“Ha!” The officer snorted. “Haven’t sent anyone on those in years. Serves no purpose beyond robbing the city of good men - and those are in short supply as is. Good fathers doubly so.”

Ouch. That one hurt. He could see Rayza looking at him - which hurt twice as much, because she was right.

“Yeah…” Ionyr mumbled. Time to change the subject. “Anyway, what’s going on here?” He gestured around. “Where are all the merchants?”

“Inside.” The guard jutted his thumb at the gate. “No one dares to venture beyond the gates anymore.”

“Bandits?”

“Bandits.” The officer nodded grimly.

“That’s nothing new, though.”

“These ones are.” He crossed his arms. “Organized, precise and viciously violent. Haven’t seen anything like it before.” The officer pointed down the road. “Everytime a caravan leaves these gates, those bastards are already lying in wait.”

“How would they know when the caravan is leaving?”

“They’ve got someone on the inside.” Rayza interjected, nodding at the gate. Her attitude toward the officer had softened somewhat. “Right?”

“Smart wife you got there.” The officer chuckled.

“That I do.” Ionyr mumbled, not meeting her repeated attempt to make eye contact.

“Indeed, we caught one of them red-handed. Was using the Postage Pen to deliver the information to his buddies.” The officer narrowed his eyes. “Hence why we’re suspicious of any new arrivals intending to send letters.”

“I see. So that’s why.” Ionyr nodded solemnly.

“I suggest you finish your business quickly and get on your way. The less you stay here, the better.” The officer turned and whistled. “They’re good to go! Open the gate!”

The sound of a thick bar being pushed aside was followed by one of the doors slowly opening, scraping against the stone road. Sounds of a bustling city reached Ionyr’s ears, as well as the infinitely melding smells of the many, many taverns.

“I didn’t expect it to be so…lively.” Rayza said, pleasantly surprised.

“Oh, we have no food shortage. A lot of it comes in - it just never leaves.” The officer chuckled. “Never liked those merchants, always keeping the good wine for the rich folk in the North. Now the good people of Postitia get to enjoy those spoils.”

“The wine’s Artivian, right?” Ionyr grinned.

“Yep.” He licked his lips.

“Good stuff, huh?”

“The best. I take it you’ve had Artivian wine before?”.

“Of course. It’s my hometown.” Ionyr responded proudly.

“So, you got a house next to the best wine orchard in all of Idyllis and a pretty wife to boot.” The officer laughed. “Lucky bastard.”

“Don’t feel particularly lucky.”

“Anyway, enough is enough. You two be on your way, now.”

“Thank you.” Rayza said, spurring her horse forward. She was still holding Ciel’s hood tightly over her head, in case the trotting made it fall. However, she kept it just high enough that her daughter could peek out and see the wonders of human civilization with her own eyes. Before Ionyr could follow, the officer turned to him.

“One last thing - from one man to another..” He said grimly. “In all my years, I’ve learned that bandits have three important needs. Money, booze and…” He subtly gestured toward Rayza and Ciel. “Protect those two. With your life, if you must.”

“Yeah.” The man was right. “That’s the plan.”

“Good.” The officer nodded solemnly and returned to his post.

Ionyr watched his wife and daughter from afar. Rayza looked so happy, showing Ciel the sights, smells and sounds of a bustling city. She was a natural - it’s like she was born for this.

No wonder, he thought. This was the life she’d always dreamed of, after all. And he’d always supported her dream. But now that it was reality…he wondered whether he only supported it because he never believed it would come true in the first place.

A good husband would support his wife regardless of his own wishes. A good father would put on a smile for his daughter and raise her well.

But he missed going on adventures. He missed their passionate nights.

He didn’t know how to raise his daughter well. He had grown to resent her for ruining his marriage.

Rayza bore no guilt, she was living the life he’d promised her.

Ciel bore no guilt, she was simply living the life she was given.

Therefore, the guilt and shame lay squarely on his shoulders alone. Which raised an important question.

With his adventuring life gone, what did Ionyr have left to live for, exactly? If he could give his purposeless existence so Rayza and Ciel may have a fulfilling one…would that be worth it? It’s about all he was good for at this point. As a father and husband, it’s what he was made to do.

“They’ll find someone better.” He thought as he passed through the gate. “Someone better than me.”