Fourteenth of Harbinger

Sashai awoke to the bouncing of the horse as it charged at full speed along the rugged road, held tight by Brimur’s strong arms. She must have passed out soon after they’d passed through the Misty Veil covering the Artax Mountains, she realised. It wasn’t a surprise. She had barely slept since the battle in the mines, too fearful of another attack that she wouldn’t be able to protect herself from. She glanced back to watch the scraggly line of survivors as they wearily followed Brimur’s lead. It had been a brutal fight through the tunnels with the fire demons following close behind. Only two Brilhardem followed, the others lost in a desperate rear-guard action. Of the surviving Spellcasters, two had joined Brimur’s group while the others had headed south for Wexburg to alert their Headmaster of the ambush. Lasiri and her Watchers had followed Brimur to the foothills of the Artax, then turned aside once the elf’s group had passed into Ikari territory. In all, Sashai was shocked by the savageness of the attack. Even when the werewolves had attacked the Temple, there had been no real way to resist them. The horror of watching her friends and mentors cut down paled in comparison to seeing highly lethal mages slaughtered en masse. She set her eyes on the horizon, noticing distant shapes ahead.

“What is over there?” she asked Brimur. He looked to where she was pointing and answered,

“Lok’ar. A small town, not friendly to humans. We’ll give it a wide berth. By nightfall we will find shelter in a safe town. But it will be a long ride.”

“Are we safe?”

Brimur grunted. “There is something that you must learn about life outside your Temple, Sashai. Out here a mage is never safe.”

He gently rubbed her shoulder. “But yes, we are safe enough. For now we can see any dangers before they reach us. And no one is foolish enough to attack an Ikari town. That would be a death sentence.”

Sashai took comfort in his confidence. The only other Brilhardem she had known was Belkai, and the contrast was clear despite their many similarities. Perhaps it was due to his age, but Brimur was far more stoic and accepting of the world around him. He had an inner peace that gave him a strength that Belkai seemed to lack. Where she was brash and uncompromising, Brimur sought wisdom and caution. She was glad that the elf led the Order and not Belkai. At least Narandir had the elven clan to oppose any rash decisions that she may have made. Mages seemed far more willing to submit to their leaders.

“Belkai respects you,” Brimur said suddenly, almost as if he could hear her thoughts. “She says that you have a strength beyond your years. She feared for you when the Temple was attacked, even if she was focused on finding Davos.”

Sashai wondered if that were true. She decided to test the waters and see how Brimur responded to criticism of his student. “She seems brash for her age.”

“Perhaps she seems that way to someone of your Temple,” Brimur allowed. “She was innocent once. She came to us when she was just a little younger than you. She was confused, searching for meaning. She found it in us.

“Her weakness, if you can call it that, is her longing for knowledge. It cursed her when she encountered Ashelath. She was an easy target, or so he thought. He learned his mistake far too late.”

“You still trust her?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I would trust her with my life. I already trust her with the future of this continent.”

***

They spent that night camped in a field outside a town named Griharma. It was a small community whose residents barely glanced their way during the night. Brimur didn’t speak much, seemingly exhausted by the journey. Sashai slept fitfully, waking with the first break of daylight. For a time she laid still, alone with her thoughts as she stared into the sky. She was in unknown territory both physically and mentally. She had never left Svaleta before, not even on Temple business. The Ikari Dominion was as foreign to her as a distant star. At least in Lustria she had had the comfort of the protection of a Svaletan soldier. Now she was at the mercy of mages, not all of whom were even human. The feeling was bizarre. Part of her longed to steal a horse and race back to the Prophetess despite the inherent suicide of making such a trek alone. Another part, however, thrived on the uncertainty, desperate to experience something new. She hadn’t expected such a response. She looked around at her new comrades as they began to stir. Brimur was the first, and he seemed to sense that she was awake despite her lack of movement.

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“Half a day’s ride, then we will reach my home,” he said as he knelt beside her. “Let your mind find some peace, Sashai. You are among friends.”

She sat up and forced herself to smile at the elf. “I am ready, Brimur.”

“I know.” He nodded and turned away to get the others organised for the day’s ride. There may have only been a total of six in the group, but it took time for them to sort themselves out and ready the horses for the trek. It was a sure sign of their weariness, and Brimur was patient as he stood by and watched. Sashai kept an eye on him as she gathered her things, and could see the pain in his eyes. When she eventually joined him on his horse, she quietly asked,

“What is on your mind, Brimur? Something is bothering you.”

Brimur smiled. “We lost a lot of good people in that mine, Sashai. People who cannot be replaced.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” Sashai said.

“Of course not,” Brimur replied. “But if we do not mourn our losses, then our hearts are dead.”

For some reason, she found comfort in those words through the long ride. They made their way along the dusty, well-travelled paths. They passed by groups of Ikari orcs, who looked at them first with suspicion, then respect once they recognised Brimur on the lead horse. Sashai was shocked to see warrior orcs covered in warpaint with bone piercings through their noses and cheeks bowing to the elf as he passed by. She studied them as they passed by, looking for fear or caution but seeing only respect. Orcs bowing to an elf? Who is he really?

Sashai was still considering this when the tall stone walls of the Brilhardem compound came into view. They were an imposing reminder of a time when the clans waged war against each other, the only defence against a company of angry Ikari warriors. There were no flags or insignia to announce the owner of the compound. Indeed, there was no sign of life at all until the gate slowly swung open and a single orc stepped through to meet them. He was shorter than the others that they’d encountered, though every inch of his body spoke of his ability to kill. Brimur dismounted and the two embraced before the elf waved for his comrades to join him.

“This is Arak, our combat trainer.” Brimur motioned for Sashai to approach. “You have heard of Sashai, of course.”

Arak nodded. “Belkai speaks highly of you, child. If you have her respect, then you have my own.”

He turned to Brimur. “Where is everyone? I expected an army.”

“We were betrayed by Harleigh,” Brimur answered, his voice low. He made no move towards the gate. “We were ambushed by fire demons. Not many escaped.”

“I see.” Arak looked them over and shrugged. “Such is life and war. Come on in, we’ll get your bellies filled at least.”

Brimur waved for Sashai to take the lead. “Welcome to the home of the Brilhardem.”

While the outside of the compound was bare of colour and life, the interior was a testament to the life that the Brilhardem celebrated. It had indeed been a place of war in the past, but the stone buildings had been painted over in shades of green and yellow, giving surprising life to what was once the epitome of dour. Brightly coloured vines had been cultivated, and the ground was covered by grass of the richest green. Banners and symbols decorated the inside of the walls, and the followers of the Order darted about as they carried out their tasks.

Brimur let the others pass ahead before pulling Arak aside.

“The streets were empty,” he said. “What happened?”

“Trouble to the east,” Arak replied. “A town was attacked near the canyon. We wouldn’t normally respond but, well, Shalah was visiting her clan.”

Brimur could feel his friend’s pain. He put a hand on Arak’s shoulder and said,

“You married one of the toughest women out there, my friend. There is nothing out there that she couldn’t kill.”

“Mm.” Arak looked to the east and sighed. “This troubles me, Brimur. Something is coming. I can feel it.”

Brimur didn’t answer as he watched Sashai introduce herself to a group of students. Arak was right. The only question was, what was he sensing? What new hell had the Arcane summoned this time? He shook his head, for a moment longing for a chance at peace. It was a vain hope, he knew.

“Tonight we rest. Tomorrow we will ride for Narandir.”

“This was a long diversion,” Arak pointed out.

“We have no choice,” Brimur said with a shrug. “I fear that by coming here I’m already too late.”

“So what’s your plan?” Arak asked, crossing his arms.

Brimur kept his eyes on Sashai. “The girl and I will meet with Belkai and warn her of the Council. She needs to know what’s coming.”

“What about us?”

Brimur turned back to Arak and smiled grimly. “Prepare for war.”