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Chapter 3:
The Road Ahead
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Aiden opened his eyes slowly at first.
A sudden jolt prompted them to open widely. His vision was blurry, but there was no mistaking it; he was in a prairie schooner. He narrowed his focus on a figure seated near the back of the schooner. His heart jumped in his chest. It was him. The Ahrman from Khalm. What was he doing here? Arms tied behind his back, legs bound, the Ahrman seemed unconscious.
He should be dead, shouldn’t he? He killed Quinn! Why is he here?!
“Aiden?” came a familiar voice. The hooded woman tore her gaze away from the path and peered into the schooner. “I had a feeling you were awake. Come, sit with me.”
“Aiden eagerly climbed upfront. “Where are we going? Where's Quinn?”
She hesitated as if searching for the right words. “I buried him for you. I'm sorry.”
“You just tossed him in a hole like he was some kind of animal, didn’t you? He needs a coffin, a headstone, or something so I can find him! We have to go back!”
“Calm yourself, young one. I understand your grief. I had to leave a loved one behind as well. She also died at the Ahrman's hands. I can't let such a crime go unpunished.”
“You punish him! I'm going home!” Without a moment of hesitation, Aiden turned and jumped off the prairie schooner. He stumbled to his feet and sprinted back up the snow-covered path. He had never ventured this far from Khalm. If not for the schooner's trail he would be lost.
“Aiden, don't be foolish!” the woman said, lifting Aiden up by his waist.
Aiden kicked and screamed. “Put me down! I have to go home!”
“Look around you!” She pointed to the vast open fields surrounding them. Under the bright, moonlit sky, there were few shadows in the land. There were even fewer shadows that were stationary. Through his watery eyes, Aiden stared hard at them. They walked on two legs but were hutched. With every beat of his heart, the figures narrowed the distance between them.
“Those are Qutrub,” the woman said, planting Aiden back on his feet. “And they outnumber us a hundred to one. Traveling on foot in this country isn't good for one's health.”
She rushed Aiden back to the prairie schooner and urged him back to his seat. She returned to the driver’s seat and signaled the horses to move. “My name is Farah, by the way. Your friend called you Aiden?”
“Where are you taking me?”
“To Nabiil. It’s fifty miles or so to the southeast.”
“I know where it is.”
“We will board a chariot there and travel further west.”
Riding a chariot had been a dream of Aiden's for as long as he could remember. But without Quinn it all seemed pointless. “To where?”
Farah paused. “Where you will be safe.”
“Safe? With him?” Aiden parted the prairie schooner's thin covering and peered at the unconscious Ahrman. Bound by his hands and feet, he didn't seem so dangerous now. His thin lips were curved into a cocky smile.
Must be dreaming about all the people he's killed.
Aiden eyed the rip in his shirt where the sword pierced him. There wasn't any sign of a wound.
How could he be completely healed? It wasn't fair. Quinn was dead but his killer still drew breath. “What happens when he wakes up and starts throwing lightning at us?”
She urged the colts forward. “Rebirths tend to detach from their host after he or she dies. I control the lightning now.”
Farah's choice of words made Aiden even wearier of Rebirths. “But...how come he's still alive?”
“He controls the Rebirth of Death. It’s in his left hand. As long as it is with him he can't die by yours or my hands.”
“But, how come that one didn’t detach too?”
“The Rebirth of Death is a complex rune. This is my first time encountering someone with it.”
Aiden sat up in his seat. “Wait. Could he use that death-rebirth thing to bring people back to life? Like Quinn?”
“I’m afraid not. It only revives the person that wields it.”
Aiden’s heart sunk in his chest.
***
Bones.
So many bones.
They were all that remained of both men and beasts.
A prairie schooner laid on its side, broken wheels scattered about. Mister Laul had told him stories about travelers meeting their demise on the road to Nabiil. He spoke of terrible creatures as tall as a story, walking like men, and draining the life out of their victims. Mister Laul wasn't the only person who rehearsed such stories.
Some would live long enough to tell similar tales. It was their first-hand accounts that earned this area the name Valley of the Lurking Death. Aiden took in the scene, allowing the stories to feed his vision. Every shadow in the distance seemed to take life. Aiden clenched his fists, a feeble attempt to stop their shaking. Farah's use of the Rebirth of Invisibility couldn't ease his nerves either.
The gallops of two Andalusian colts would draw many ears, wouldn't they? She drove them hard and fast. As the schooner rocked and bounced, Aiden wondered if she pushed the animals too fast. The last thing he wanted was to travel by foot in this darkness.
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With a complexion that would make snow envious, the Ahrman glistened in the dark. He was awake but hadn't uttered a word. Only his eyes, pale and cold, spoke as they focused on Aiden. Aiden looked away, trying desperately to ignore the Ahrman. But even beneath the blanket, he could feel the Ahrman's gaze; hear his steely voice. “What am I going to do with you?”
Aiden shifted under the blanket, resisting the urge to answer. He had his own questions to ask the Ahrman, but the more he learned the more Aiden realized how little he knew about himself.
“I could take you back to Ahrmana, or I could just slit your throat,” the Ahrman continued. “To tell you the truth, I'm partial to the latter.”
Aiden sprung up like an angry volcano. “Of course you are! You're nothing but a cold-blooded murder!”
“That makes two of us, now doesn't it?”
“I'm nothing like you!”
“Oh? My mistake. It must have been some other silver-haired Afreet that drove a sword through my chest.”
“Afreet?”
Farah placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder. “Ignore him, child. We’re nearly there.”
A hum in the distance grabbed his attention. The noise grew louder, closer. He could hear it clearly over the trollop of hooves. Something was beating the air like a drummer. “What is that sound?” Aiden asked, scanning the sky. The layer of clouds once hanging low had parted, revealing bright heavenly bodies. It was lit up by four brilliant lights that betrayed the sleek, bird-like vehicle. Skirting the horizon, the chariot commanded the skies with slow and steady grace.
“That’s a chariot?” Aiden asked, eyes wide open.
“That is our ride leaving without us,” Farah said. “We'll be spending a night in Nabiil it seems.”
“Are we close to the city?”
“We should see the city lights soon.”
The snow-covered land gradually gave way to grass and stone. Rumor had it never snowed around Nabiil. Some blamed the countless steam stacks situated around the city, and the constant heat they spew. Even in the darkest of nights, one could see plumes of steam rising from Nabiil's many factories. Built around two rivers, Nabiil was one of the few steam-powered cities.
A spear-wielding guard stepped out of a watchtower and motioned for the horse led schooner to stop. He raised a lantern and looked over the two passengers. Aiden sat uncomfortably under the guard's lingering stare. He looked away.
“Ahalan bik,” Farah said, a common greeting in most parts of the world.
The guard tore his gaze away from Aiden. “Ahalan biki. What brings you to Nabiil at such a dangerous hour?”
“Me and my friend were hoping to catch a chariot, but it looks like we missed it.”
“Indeed, you have. Are you merchants? If you are, your wares will have to be inspected before entering Nabiil.”
Farah smiled. “We're just a couple of travelers, passing through.”
“I still need to check your schooner.”
“By all means.”
As the guard advanced to the rear, Aiden whispered to Farah. “What about the Ahrman?”
“He won't see him.”
“But he'll hear him, won't he?”
Farah stole a glance at the guard as he returned to the front of the schooner. “All right, you may pass.” He waved his lantern in the air, signaling for the gate to open.
“Thank you, sir,” Farah nodded, urging the horses forward.
They strolled down narrow streets filled with people dressed in the finest attire. The activity on the streets at such a late hour was a stark contrast to what Aiden has accustomed to. Mesmerized by the sights and sounds of metal, his young eyes were pulled in every direction. Lantern poles light up every corner of the cobbled roads, turning night into day. Buildings joined at the hip carried on for miles. Steam stacks towered in the distance like volcanoes, darkening the skies with billows of smoke.
Farah slowed the schooner to a stop in front of a hotel and dismounted. “Let's get a room.”
“What about the Ahrman?”
“He’s harmless without his claws.”
Despite being in Farah's custody, the Ahrman didn't behave like someone under arrest. Aiden kept his distance as Farah untied his legs and led the stone-faced Ahrman out of the schooner. Farah handed Aiden the end of the rope. “The two of you are invisible now. Follow me, and keep quiet.”
Aiden looked up at the Ahrman then back at Farah. He coiled the rope around his hand. “Uh...okay.”
Why was she hiding him? As far as Aiden could tell, there weren't any Ahrman here. Midaharians were the majority in this part of the world. If an Ahrman was accused of murdering a Midaharian, the authorities in Nabiil would be more than willing to detain him. Aiden tried not to think about it. He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted was to be back in Khalm with Quinn playing snow duel.
After Farah had paid for their lodging, Aiden quietly followed her to their room. The Ahrman didn't offer any resistance as they tackled three flights of stairs. When they arrived at their room, Farah was quick to unlock the door.
“Hurry inside,” she said. “Before someone sees you.”
“We're not invisible?” Aiden asked as he rushed inside.
“Not anymore.” Farah closed the door and locked it. “Getting us here from Khalm drained most of the rune’s power. It was completely drained by the time we reached the second floor.”
“Oh.” Aiden threw his gaze over the room. As inviting as the two beds seemed, sleep was the last thing he wanted. As Farah led the Ahrman over to a chair and tied him down, Aiden approached the open window. A warm breeze breathed life into his hair. Nabiil seemed even more impressive at this height. There were new buildings under construction in every direction, one taller than the other. He stared into the skyline, lit up by lights. As he marveled at Nabiil’s many buildings, movement in the sky grabbed his attention. A long shadowy figure coiled from one shadow to another until it was nowhere to be seen.
“Aiden,” Farah called. She walked up to the window and closed the drapes. “Keep this shut and covered.”
She threw her cloak and short sword on the bed. “We're safe here as long as no one sees you.”
“Sees...me?” Aiden asked, puzzled.
Farah knelt to eye level with Aiden. She lifted his chin with her hand. “You have peculiar eyes. You know this don’t you?”
“I..they’re just birthmarks.” That’s what Laul had told him. The old shopkeeper never told Aiden who his family really was. Just that Laul had stumbled upon the young infant abandoned in the wheat fields of Khalm one day.
“I’m afraid that’s the problem. Do you remember what you did this night? How you willed a Rebirth into being? If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. I thought you were just a destroyer, not a creator too.”
Aiden turns away from Farah. “But..no. That was an accident. I didn’t mean to. I.. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was upset about Quinn..”
“There is much you’re not aware of, it seems. Aiden, what you need to understand is most will see you as a threat and want to harm you. Others will want to exploit you. Some....might want to kill you.” Her voice softened. “ I..I won’t let that happen.”
“Liar,” the Ahrman smirked. “Once you take him back to your island you and your “sisters” are going to kill him.”
Farah turned to him. “What is your name, Ahrman?”
He sat back in the chair. “I'll carve it on your tombstone.”
“Have it your way, but you will be held accountable for what you’ve done.”
“You may have fooled the Afreet, but you and I both know it's not justice you’re after.”
With the level of friction between the two, one could hardly tell that after thirty years of war, the Ahrman and Midaharian nations were at peace with each other. That's what their respective leaders had told the rest of the world not too long ago. Things were so different outside of Khalm; the people, their way of life. Why did the rest of the world have to bring their problems to him? Aiden clenched his fists. “Stop calling me that! My name is Aiden!”
“And when the Midaharians get a hold of you, you'll wish you were dead.”
“He's under my protection,” Farah said. “No harm will come to him.”
“Protecting the Destroyer of Rebirths is not what a warrioress from Khalina is all about, now is it, Farah?”
Aiden's thoughts raced. He didn't know these people, either of them, yet somehow they seemed to know all about him. Even things he didn't know himself. The way they talked was as if he was a prize or something. They were like blacksmith Laul. He didn't care about him, or what he wanted, just the money he made for him.
Farah plucked a glove from one hand. “It's no secret that Midaharia possesses a powerful Rebirth, as does The Ahrman Empire. They’ve used them for war and destruction in the past and will continue to do so.” She glared at the Ahrman. “Especially with hunters like you finding Rebirths for them.”
“Maybe I should have been a cook like my mother always wanted,” the Ahrman chuckled. Farah walked over to the cackling Ahrman and stuffed her gloves into his mouth.
“Pay his words no mind, Aiden. I'm going down to the station to check the flight schedule.”
“You're...leaving me here? Alone? With him?”
“He's disarmed and harmless now. You needn't be afraid, young one. I'll return shortly. Don't let anyone know you’re here.”
Aiden nodded, eying the door as it closed behind Farah. After she had saved him and Quinn, Aiden thought he could trust her. But as her revelation repeated in his mind, he began to wonder.
Quinn didn't trust her or the Ahrman, did he? Should I?