“Sometimes I think it’s a sin

When I feel like I’m winning, when I’m losing again”

Kadal fought hard not to smile at his wife’s pouting face. Her crossed arms and narrowing eyes didn’t help his plight.

“I told you not to get it,” she said.

“I know, I know. I took that into consideration, but this is important to me. I need something to remember you all.”

“So it’s about death. Is that it? The only thing you can think about when we’re apart is how everybody is going to die? It’s been twenty years. You don’t have to live like that anymore.”

She just didn’t get it.

“Sundown–”

“Oh, so I’m Sundown now?” she pressed.

Kadal felt he could say nothing right. So, he simply sat beside her, the bed creaking in retort. She didn’t want to give in, but Kadal had always been good at taking ground.

“Do you know how they kiss in the north?” he asked.

“How?”

Her eyes couldn’t be less interested.

“Like this.” Kadal hugged her from the side and rubbed his beard back and forth on her cheek.

“Stop,” Sundown laughed, “Stop it.”

Kadal flopped back onto the cushions.

“Well, let’s see it then,” she said.

“See it?”

“The tattoo.”

Kadal unbuttoned his top until he could show her the little shaved patch above his left pectoral. A simple scene sat needled into his skin in thin, slightly shaky lines: A heron flew through the rain, the sun setting in the distance.

“It’s nice.” Sundown ran her thumb over the still-red skin.

“But?” Kadal prodded.

“But, I still think you’d be better off without it. It’s easier not to worry.”

“And who said love would be easy?”

“Who taught you all this old-school romance?”

“It’s just something I’ve picked up.”

“Oh?” she asked, “Where? Up North?” She took his head in her hands and rubbed her chin back and forth across his fuzzy cheek. “Go wake Heron and get us some water for the day. I’ll have Rainfall help me with breakfast.”

Kadal sat up and buttoned his shirt.

The boys would sleep well into the day if they could. Kadal knocked gently on their door before entering. He shook Heron until the boy’s eyes creaked open.

“Get dressed, we’re getting water.”

Heron just groaned.

The boys looked so much like their mother. Coal dark hair and eyes that stood out starkly against their pale skin. It reminded Kadal of paper, though he knew Sundown would loathe the comparison. It reminded her too much of ‘Paper Person.’

Sundown was particular when it came to her people. It was Ooahli or nothing at all. Paper Person, Nobody, Nameless, or any of the countless other terms Kadal often heard were not polite. She didn’t care that some Ooahli referred to themselves in such a way; that just meant they had no self-respect.

At this point, Kadal had heard every name under the sun, even more after the sun had gone down and good company was asleep. Of course, Kadal was more than happy to correct the tongue of any bad-mouthed individuals he met.

Heron finally had enough wits about him to sit up.

He might have his mother's everything else, but his beard is coming in nicely.

“Meet me out front.”

Kadal went out and sat on the porch while he waited. He liked to watch the sky as it grew lighter.

“Ready,” Heron said.

Kadal used his knees to ache up onto his feet.

“You’re getting old, you know that?”

Kadal thought briefly about wrestling Heron to the floor.

“I’ve been old for ten years now. You’re the one who’s getting old.”

“I don’t feel old.”

“That’s because you don’t act your age. I’ve been doing a fine job of pretending till now myself.”

As they walked, Kadal listened to Heron talk. Kadal found that the older he got, the more comfortable he became with his own silence.

The forest air was young enough to be chilly, but Kadal knew it wouldn’t last once the sun could touch him directly through the trees. The ‘tetetetete’ of a woodpecker echoed around them.

“Do you want to go to the city for Allsday?” Kadal asked, more to feel out the idea than to get Heron’s thoughts.

“Sure, but it might be a hard sell for Mom.”

“I’ll talk to her about it. Rainfall will probably want to go, too.”

The two followed the worn path into a quiet brook. Kadal filled his pail with clear water and was ready to return, but Heron stood looking up at the canopy.

“Look,” Heron pointed, “there he is.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Kadal followed his gaze and saw the woodpecker clutched to the bark of a tree near the water’s edge. Its red crest was like a flame against the umber bark.

“Tetetetete,” it tete’d.

Kadal set his pail down so the two could watch the bird chip away at the bark.

“He sure is a lively one,” Kadal said, “Let’s get home while the food’s still hot.”

Heron filled his pail and followed Kadal back home.

Once home, they sat down their loads and hurried to wipe their feet at the doorstep. The smell of cooked meat permeated the door, promising their aching arms would be worth it.

“We’re back.”

Rainfall was in the kitchen, eating buttery bread and sizzling strips of meat.

“Food’s done,” he said before pondering and adding, “By the way, Dad, a man came looking for you. He’s out back with Mom.”

“Lead with that next time.”

Kadal took a roll and marched his way out back. He found Sundown eating on the porch while she watched a man split wood. At Kadal’s approach, the man set down his axe.

“Gene, is that you?” Kadal asked, “It’s been too long.”

“You sure took your sweet time,” the man said, pulling up his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, all the while showing off his beer belly, “Sundown’s got me working like a dog out here.”

Sundown piped up, “Gene, you haven't worked a day since marrying that Gloria. It’s a miracle you could even walk all the way out here.”

Gene looked exasperated.

“You have gone round on me,” Kadal told his friend.

“I’ve been round,” Gene cried, then thought better of his words, “That’s not the point. Kadal, I’ve heard from some higher-ups that their higher-ups heard from the Margrave that King Domini ordered your capture.”

“Capture? Why?”

“I don’t know, but we were coming back from a campaign and they figured we’d stop by since if we had the time.”

Sundown stood up by this point and was coughing down some bread.

“The Margrave is coming here?” she hacked.

“Yes, they had me scout ahead.”

“You.” Kadal deadpanned, “Scout ahead.”

“I called in some favors. Don’t worry about me, though. There is no way this can come back to me. I made sure of that. I have a kid to think about, you know?”

“And I have two,” Kadal countered, his temper rising.

Sundown jostled her way between the two men.

“It’s not a numbers game,” she said, “How did the Margrave know where to find us?”

“I’m not sure exactly, but too many people knew where you live, so I’m sure you weren’t too hard to find.”

“When are they going to be here?”

“I’m supposed to be the scout, so anytime after I report back. Unless, of course, I take too long. Then, they’ll just proceed without me.”

“That’s not very much time,” Sundown said.

A deep, brassy horn sent the birds flying from the trees.

“That’s no time,” Kadal said, “Take the boys and run.”

“We can hide in the attic.”

“No, if they want me to leave, they won’t want me coming back. They may just burn the house down.”

“They were supposed to wait.” Gene pulled at his shirt as though it were suddenly constricting him. “They told me– well, it’s supposed to be– it’s protocol.”

“Kadal.” Sundown swayed forward with the weight of all the things she wanted to say.

“I know.”

Kadal pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

“That’s it?”

“This way, my return will be even sweeter.”

Sundown’s face went red like blood on the snow.

“Go be a knight, you big romantic idiot.”

Another triumph of horn heralded.

“I’ll try and stall them for as long as I can.” Gene rolled his shoulders. “Where is all this confidence coming from? Last I checked, you got the wrong kind of magic for immortality.”

“It seems I have something in common with them. They need me alive.”

Gene waved him off.

“Got it. I’ll give you time.”

Gene strutted around the house with confidence enough to impress a cat.

Kadal bent over to pick up the hatchet Gene had dropped. He felt the rough woodgrain beneath his hand. Then, Kadal did something special.

It felt like wiggling his ears, only behind his eyes, the sensation sliding down inside him like an icy anchor where it grew until a dry, frozen emptiness finally filled his belly. Kadal could see into the darkness in the same manner he could tell where his nose was, even at night.

Inside himself, Kadal could see something everyone had but few ever got to know– His soul. It looked like a nice fishbowl. His was clear with ocean blue leaves worked into the glass and a sliver band wrapped around the top. Inside, two fish bumped into one another.

One fish was a red so complete that roses had to blush just to compete, and the other an orange of the deepest sunset. Kadal inhaled and felt his stomach drop as the orange fish lept from his soul and into his heart. There, Kadal felt his blood boil as everything this fish was to him became laid bare.

The fish represented a piece of Kadal he hadn’t felt in a long time. The fish, held in his heart, was Kadal’s anger, his passion, his fire.

Kadal exhaled. The fish darted through his arm and into the hatchet, whose head promptly burst into flames. With its leave, however, Kadal felt a disorientating tautness and then a snap as that part of his soul was no longer within him.

All his anger, which mere moments ago threatened to overcome him, vanished as though it had never been. It felt like ice ran through him. He was still beyond livid, but he felt it in a cold, disconnected way. He no longer would take pleasure in killing the intruders; it was simply a matter of course.

“Good to know you can’t lose what you once got.”

Kadal turned his mind inward again, this time focusing on the red fish. At his command, the red fish swam in a circle, producing a sound like a low gong that only Kadal could hear.

The orange fish lept from the hatchet and splashed back into his soul. The fire went out as the fire within him reignited.

Gene was probably praying by now.

Kadal stretched his arms as he walked. He wished it wouldn’t come to violence, but Kadal knew better than to wish. Neither side would be willing to compromise, which meant somebody was about to have some sense knocked into them.

“As I said, you can if you want, but nobody’s home.” Gene turned at the sound of Kadal’s approach. “Gentlemen, I stand corrected. You know what they say: speak of the devil and all that.”

In front of Gene, seven men wearing thick blue gambeson loitered exasperated, and an eighth wearing decorated plate armor stood impassive. The man was massive, easily a head taller than anyone else present. A helmet resembling a snapping turtle masked the man's face; the long red plume that curled from the top almost made the turtle’s beak into that of a stout bird.

“Margrave Krozha,” Kadal said.

“Are we back to formalities, Kadal?” the margrave said in a perfectly conversational tone.

The two just watched each other for a time. Kadal knew he should talk. He knew every precious second he bought could mean the difference between life and death for his family. The margrave was only here for him, but Kadal knew how the man hated loose ends.

Kadal unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. Then he worked on the next.

“And they said that fire of yours had been doused,” the margrave intoned.

“It was nice of you to come,” Kadal said, finding that, strangely, he meant it.

Kadal tossed his shirt to Gene before bringing the hatchet to light.

The margrave took one heavy step forward.

“It’s been a while since we sparred.”