Olivia entered the tent and sat down on one of the stools. A familiar routine by this point. Lucullus waved to her as she entered.

“I saw Laylaa leaving a minute ago.”

“Yea. She just finished another of those rituals. Sometimes I feel like this bed is becoming an altar, and I’m just waiting to be sacrificed.”

She giggled. “I think this tent is more like sepulcher for you.”

He grinned. “If not for all the people kneeling and praying over me, I might be more inclined to agree with you. It seems like years have passed since I last stood up.”

“I can only imagine. It must be rather dull being bedridden for so long.”

“It’s not all bad,” he admitted, shrugging. “I’ve had more free time than I could ever ask for. It’s time I have to pray, but also to think.”

“What sort of thoughts?”

“I’ve reflected a lot on my time in Lucium. A lot of it was spent on my time in the Wall.”

“Why make your time confined to this bed more miserable?”

He sat up. “I wasn’t trying to think about depressing things, but my mind always drifted back to it. Another thing I couldn’t escape was that time I spent in my village’s jail.” His eyes wandered to the tent flap. “The things Aurelian told us about Decimus and his investigation haven’t left my mind. The dangers that loom over Lucium. The utter collapse of any sense of justice. The conspiracies… All of it, I’m sure have only worsened since my departure.”

“There’s no use in worrying about it until we return.”

“I can’t help but worry. I haven’t seen my mother in… at this point, I’ve lost track of how long it has been. I can only say that months have passed. Even when I returned to the village after my escape from the Avarus Wall, I was kept away from her.” He closed his eyes. “Just a hazy memory of her weeping. The last time we saw each other, I was dragged away in chains for the crime of seeking the truth. They could never turn her against me, so they separated us.” His muscles trembled. “This is the first time in many months that I’ve had this much time to dwell on anything.”

She put her hand on his forearm. “I understand the feeling of separation. I miss my father dearly, but let’s look to the future rather than the past.”

“My mother is alone. No husband to care for her. No sons nor daughters to help. The one person I trusted the most to take care of her in my absence broke that trust. Worse than that, he is the last person I want near my mother.”

“But how can you be friends for so long, and have such an unbreakable bond, yet have such a betrayal from nothing?”

“I can only guess why he would betray me. Perhaps he saw an opportunity for power, money, or something greater than those things. Maybe he was bitter about me investigating the murder more than he or his men. Or maybe he was just a coward who couldn’t handle the pressure from the conspiracy.” He scoffed. “It didn’t matter to me. Whatever his reason, Decimus’s murderer was never caught, I was imprisoned for nothing, and Lucium burns. And for what?”

“Maybe he saw something you didn’t.”

“I think that might make it worse.”

She squeezed a little on his forearm. “How would that make it worse?”

“If he saw something I didn’t, why didn’t he tell me?”

Her eyes darted down toward the bed. “It just doesn’t feel right to me. So many years of friendship must surely not go to waste. I think it is always possible to rebuild the trust if your heart is in it.”

“It’s a shame that my heart was ripped out in that cell. Tullius didn’t defend me during my trial. He was the captain of the guard. He had the power to release me, but he chose not to.”

“In my father’s court, I learned years ago that often, even though you truly hate a choice in your heart, you sometimes have to make a difficult judgment. A problem may be assailing your people, but hastily charging in to deal with it may present a worse problem. My father has wanted to curb the issues on the western border for a long time, but he did not rush a decision because doing so could easily result in a war we couldn’t win. ‘Some people suffer now, but blindly following one’s ideals will cause everyone to suffer more.’ That’s something my father used to say.”

“Something that confused me for a long time was why he never did anything more about the problem. The roads were unsafe for anything less than an army to travel through, many villages were on the verge of a famine, and taxes were out of control in some places. Yet, despite all that, no decisive action was taken.”

“When you are the head of a country, nothing is ever simple. Every word, every action, all of it is scrutinized.”

“I doubt Tullius had any of the same excuses.”

“You’ve seen how powerful the Chaodites are. It’s possible they bullied their way through Tullius’s superiors. The lord of any village has dominion over his captain.”

He sighed. “I almost wish I could talk to him. Maybe I would get some closure hearing his explanation. Or maybe I would just feel angrier hearing him speak.” He sighed more deliberately. “I just don’t know. There’s a reason I tried to keep this out of my mind.”

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

“You have to face it eventually.”

He bowed his head a little. “I know.”

An abrupt opening of the tent flap took Lucullus out of his somber contemplation. Laylaa entered with a wave, and motioned for Olivia to move aside.

“I thought she was done for the day.”

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

Laylaa began her prayers as she knelt by the bed. Unlike previous times, she began to visibly tremble in her hands, and sweat rolled down her face as the ritual went on. Lucullus almost jolted out of the bed as she yanked the blanket off of his legs. He exchanged glances with Olivia as he let his heart rate return to normal. His confusion only intensified as she laid a piece of dirty linen over his most serious leg wounds.

Olivia shivered at the sight of Lucullus’s many scars.

Suddenly a bright light appeared over Lucullus. Almost too bright for him. Laylaa was motionless as she gazed up at it. Olivia covered her eyes with her hand, but soon the light became more bearable. It was at that moment that Lucullus recognized a figure in the light. Impossible, he thought.

Laylaa began to speak again, and finished with a name Lucullus had never heard before, “Kamil.”

For a moment Lucullus could see the figure’s face clearer than anything else in the tent, then the figure and bright light vanished. As everyone else remained motionless, Laylaa bowed her head and finished with another prayer before standing up.

“What was that bright light?” Aela asked as she and Johannes entered the tent.

“Kamil the Great Prophet,” Aurelian responded.

Lucullus’s eyes darted to the right of the tent flap. “How long have you been standing there?”

“As soon as I saw the tent be engulfed in light.”

“What?”

“You were probably too distracted by the apparition to notice.”

“I think the blinding light was a more probable cause,” Olivia countered.

Aurelian shrugged. “Regardless of the cause, you should all consider yourselves blessed beyond description. Even the most devout Kamilite clergy and religious rarely receive a private apparition.”

“I’ve never had an apparition that didn’t talk to me,” Lucullus revealed. “This is the fourth time I’ve been visited by one, but it is the only time it has not addressed me.”

Aurelian darted his gaze to him. “Do you know who the previous apparitions were?”

“They were all the same spirit. At least, they all looked the same to me,” he admitted. “In fact, this apparition looked exactly like the previous three, though I saw his face clearer this time than ever before.”

Aurelian said some things to Laylaa, which, by her shocked reaction, Lucullus assumed was a translation of what he said.

“I did also receive another visit from this same spirit. Only this other one was in a dream or something like that. My memory of it is hazy, but I remember some of it. I think it said something about me learning its name. I guess this spirit must be Kamil.”

After another exchange between Aurelian and Laylaa, he turned back to Lucullus. “Milady says that your apparitions must be reported directly to Master Elijah to be evaluated, and asks if anything aside from the appearance would have you believe these to be Kamil the Prophet.”

Lucullus pondered it for a moment. “There is one thing I will say for now. It’s a prayer the apparition taught me on the second visitation. ‘O Hikma, source of all grace, protect me from the snares of my enemies, and lead me always on the path of Thy holy light.’ He told me to say it and reflect on it. I believe that saying this prayer is why I was kept from death as I navigated a blizzard to escape the Avarus Wall.”

Laylaa took a step back from Aurelian, and stared at Lucullus with a great intensity. “Tilk alsala… Kamil…”

Aurelian looked at her, then back to Lucullus. “‘Ya Hikmata, ya masdar kuli niemati, ahfazini min fakhakh 'aedayiy, wahdini dayman ealaa tariq nurik almiqdasi.’ That is the prayer in Dayiran. It is the prayer recited by Kamil the Prophet in the scriptures. In fact, he was the first to say this prayer.”

“Interesting. But who is Master Elijah?”

“He is the head of faith, a successor of Kamil.” He looked over to Aela. “He is to the people of Mahjur what the Kyrios is to the people of Emporikos or Immergrun.”

“Laylaa, do you think he can tell me the meaning of what the apparition told me?”

Aurelian relayed the question, and Laylaa nodded.

“Then I wish to depart from this tent immediately.”

Olivia interjected, “But you’re still injured.”

Lucullus swung his legs around, and planted his feet on the ground in front of his bed. His hands firmly gripped the edge. “I’ve waited long enough. Perhaps that apparition’s bright light had some meaning. I must attempt to stand. If I am able, then we shall prepare to leave at once.”

“I wouldn’t advise rushing your recovery,” Johannes cautioned.

Olivia rushed over to the bed. “You might hurt yourself further.”

Lucullus took a deep breath, and braced his core. “I know my legs will be weak the first time, but I can’t bear to lay here a second longer if I don’t have to.” Before anyone could stop him he pushed off the bed with a grunt, and staggered as he stood up. His legs trembled, and he nearly fell over. Olivia tried to support him, but he put his hand out to stop her. “If I can’t stand on my own, then I don’t deserve to stand at all.” He straightened his back as it made many loud popping sounds.

Laylaa took a step back from Lucullus, keeping her gaze always upward.

He took a few labored breaths, but managed to maintain his balance, and eventually steadied his breathing. He smiled. “Just as I suspected…”

Aela looked away. “I think you may get some unpleasant reactions if you walk around like that.”

He looked down. “Some clothes would be a good idea. Though I doubt whatever is left of my old clothes will work.”

“Johannes, do we have anything that will fit him?” Aela asked softly.

Johannes shrugged. “I’m not sure if those women have any.”

“If no one objects, provided we have the materials, I could at least make him some pants from that blanket,” Olivia suggested.

Aela countered, “I’m not sure if the Dayirans would appreciate us doing that to their blankets.”

“Aurelian can ask them. I can work with whatever material they let us use.”

“And what about shoes?”

Aurelian chuckled. “Don’t worry. I can ask them. I’m sure they have a pair of sandals big enough for his feet.”

“Good. The sooner I can leave this tent, the better. At least I can stand up and walk around in the tent.”