Chapter Fourteen: The Start of a Journey

Raimie

Everything hurt. All of my muscles were crying of overuse, and the small bruises forming under my skin would soon mark any slight damage that had been done to my body. Still, I followed Rhylix with a spring in my step.

“So, what am I gathering again?” I asked. “Chamomile and aloe, right? Is there anything else?’

“That’ll do,” Rhylix said. “I’m guessing you know what the herbs look like?”

I chuckled.

“Of course I do,” I said. “You have no idea how often I needed them while growing up.”

Glancing askance at me, Rhylix asked, “Why’s that?”

What a good question. I didn’t know how to answer it without embarrassing myself, so I gave the Eselan an honest reply.

“When I was small, I played with an imaginary friend. Our antics usually ended with me hurt in one way or another, so I became well acquainted with healing herbs. I stopped such childishness after my mother died, though.”

“I see,” Rhylix said.

But how else was he supposed to respond? Who had imaginary friends when they reached nine years of age? No one I knew. So, I cringed in preparation of anything more Rhylix might want to say.

Fortunately, Allanovian emerged from behind concealing trees at that moment, revealing my father pacing in front of the waterfall hiding its entrance.

“Raimie! You have to do something,” he said as we approached. “Eledis has been shouting at Allanovian’s Council for a solid half hour, and I don’t know how much longer it can go without someone getting violent. I need your help to stop the argument before that happens.”

Suppressing a groan, I met Rhylix’s eyes before shrugging. The herbs would have to wait.

“Eledis is trying to get himself killed again? Alouin, when will he learn?” I said. “All right. Let’s rescue him for the millionth time.”

How many times had my father and I pulled the old man out of a bar fight or something equally as dangerous? How many times would we enable his incitive nature? Eventually, it would end with one of us hurt.

“Where are they?” I asked.

“I’ll take you to them,” my father said. “Will the healer join us?”

Shaking his head, Rhylix said, “The healer has better things to do than settle a squabble between a human and my people.”

Grimacing, I waved my new friend on. How I wished I could escape with him.

“Off with you, then,” I said.

Rhylix bowed to me and my father.

“I’d wish you luck,” he said, “but I suppose two honorary Zrelnach don’t need such a fickle thing.”

Stiffening, I glared at Rhylix. Why would he remind me of the trial that I’d undertaken just a few hours before?

At Rhylix’s words, however, my father went still, fixing his eyes on him as if asking permission for something. If he was looking for approval, the healer didn’t give it. He merely rose from his bow and strode away.

Biting his lip, my father crossed his arms, keeping his eyes fixed on where Rhylix had disappeared.

After a moment, I cautiously asked, “Shall we?”

My father jumped, shaking himself.

“Yes, let’s get to Eledis,” he said, “preferably before he does something stupid.”

He led me around the waterfall and through the cave entrance behind it, following in Rhylix’s footsteps. Since I saw no sign of my friend, I assumed our paths diverged from there, but of others, I saw plenty.

They still stared at the humans in their midst, but no hostility radiated from them now. Instead, disquiet hovered over them, visible in their set shoulders and pinched eyes.

I resisted this aura with a bounce in my step, distractedly humming while I examined my surroundings. To date, I’d been contained in a portion of Allanovian that had been carved out of the mountain. Its corridors had abnormally smooth walls with its chambers too regularly paced.

What my father and I were hurrying through looked more natural. The path meandered, bordering cavernous pockets that featured multiple cave formations, and where it plunged between these caves, its height and width varied, although it never got tight around the people who walked down it. Allanovian’s citizens must have made it more comfortable over the years.

Ahead of me, my father said, “You seem better. Usually, it takes a newly initiated Zrelnach longer to recover from their second trial, especially when it’s of the variety you underwent. Are you detaching again?”

I slowed down as all liveliness was stripped from me.

“What else am I supposed to do?” I asked. “Now that I’ve proven myself to this city’s Council, I doubt we’ll stay here for long, especially with everyone so eager to commence the damn foretelling. I won’t have time to process what happened, not until we’re on the open road again, and if I let myself dwell on it before then, I…”

I wasn’t sure what would happen, but it wouldn’t be pleasant for anyone involved.

Sighing, my father said, “You know I don’t approve of how you repress yourself like this, but for once, I think you’re right to do it, if only for a time. I’m here for when you want to talk.”

“I appreciate that,” I said.

I couldn’t add more as at that moment, cacophonous screeching burst from a room ahead of us.

“This’ll be fun,” my father grumbled.

He started forward but halted when I threw an arm in front of him.

“That want me, right? Their blasted foretold leader,” I said. “That’s why they’re refusing to hear whatever Eledis has to say.”

My father reluctantly nodded, so I continued on.

“I’ll deal with this. Considering how much you and Eledis don’t get along, having you in the room probably wouldn’t be helpful. Instead, can you…? I don’t know. Maybe we can talk later? I’d like to-”

This weight on my chest needed to be lifted, and while Rhylix’s first lesson in sword fighting, teaching me basic forms and disarms, had helped somewhat, he wasn’t family. I needed someone I could share everything with, knowing I wouldn’t be judged. I needed my father.

Resting a hand on my shoulder, my father squeezed it.

“An excellent idea. In fact, I have something to tell you too,” he said. “Find me in the Zrelnach’s common room once you’re done here, and we’ll discuss things over drinks. Do you know where that is?”

I shook my head.

“But I’m sure that if I ask an Eselan dressed in black, they’ll be happy to show me,” I added.

“That’s my smart boy,” my father said.

After patting my cheek, he lingered as if wanting to say more before putting the shouting match to his back. I faced it, gritting my teeth as I came closer. Without giving myself time to think about what I was doing, I entered the source of the argument.

The chamber beyond was quite cozy, or it would have been if not for the room’s occupants. Bending over a paper-strewn table, Eledis had gone red in the face, repeatedly jabbing a finger at the map below his hands. One of the men on the Council matched him in shade and volume while another had crossed his arms with a foot jittering, and the third watched everything from his chair, holding folded hands in front of his lips. The only woman in the room looked bored, inspecting her fingernails with a hand on the hilt of a dagger, but when I joined them, she flicked her eyes to me.

Our gazes met, gray to blue, and something in the back of my mind hissed its displeasure. To her credit, Ferin flinched when confronted with someone she’d recently made a murderer, which was good. I didn’t like my chances if anger had had me attacking her.

Never removing my eyes from the commander, I cocked my head as if puzzled by the scene in front of me.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “I thought we were finally on the same side. Why are we shouting at one another?”

Everyone in the room flipped toward me, which had too much attention turned my way, and the room distorted until strangers, filling the ramps on all sides, glared down at me. Locking up, I ran my eyes over those gathered here, unsure of what new horror they might demand from me. I should retreat, fleeing as fast as I could through Allanovian, before they could hurt me again.

“Oh, grandson. You’re here,” Eledis said. “Come. Join us. Maybe you can talk sense into these people, who should be doing what we say now.”

And the hold on me broke.

“Why?” I asked.

Striding into the chamber, I absently ran a finger along a map of the Fractured Peaks. On noting that it was marked with new labels, ones I’d never recorded in my mental index, I lifted it higher, but after modifying the map in my head, I returned to holding Ferin’s gaze.

“All I’ve done is prove that I’m worthy of becoming a Zrelnach, if I wanted to. My only other claim to this supposed foretelling is Shadowsteal, and let’s face it. We can never be sure whether the sword that I found is the legendary blade in truth,” I said. “And what have you done to garner the Council’s support besides be a descendant of the Audish royal line, grandfather?”

Eledis was glaring at me. I could feel it even as Ferin broke eye contact to exchange glances with the other Council members.

“Young one…” said one of the men. “None of us are in doubt about what you found. Why are you? Can’t you hear its ringing?’

Everyone dropped their eyes to the sword hanging at Eledis’ side, and I frowned. Was this what my grandfather had been talking about when he’d said Shadowsteal would draw the Audish to it for a time? And if so, why was it silent for me?

Should I truthfully answer the Councilman’s question? If I did, my lack of something that only the Audish could hear might prove I wasn’t who they thought I was. They seemed to believe their ‘foretold one’ would have Audish blood running through their veins, and if I didn’t measure up to that expectation, I might lose their support.

Considering how awful I was at lying, though, speaking anything but the truth seemed like a bad idea.

“No, I don’t hear anything like that,” I said. “A ringing sound lured me to it in the first place, but since touching it, I’ve heard nothing.”

A ripple spread over those gathered here, and I wondered how I’d disturbed them. They weren’t reacting the way I’d expected.

“May I ask what you were arguing about?” I said, eager to change the subject.

Shaking herself, Ferin said, “Routes to the Narrow Sea, among other things.”

“Other things being the number of Zrelnach who will accompany us and what sort of supplies Allanovian will provide, as per their long-held promise,” Eledis grumbled.

At this, my frown became a smile. I’d heard of this promise, the one originating in Allanovian’s founders. I didn’t understand why a promise made by people long-dead should apply to their descendants, but voicing my doubt didn’t seem wise.

After what Teron had done to Fissid, I was under no illusion that my family and I could stay here. I couldn’t explain how or why we’d gone for so long without another of Doldimar’s minions attacking us, but I was grateful for the lucky break, even while knowing it couldn’t last.

We needed to leave. Quickly. And despite how much it made me squirm, I’d extract everything I could from Allanovian, especially if it meant my family had a better chance of surviving.

“I’m sure the Council knows how much their people can provide,” I said, “just as I’m sure that my father’s friends among the Zrelnach can verify their determining. Now, what’s this about our route?”

Around the map I’d raised, I watched the Council members stiffen. Had they been planning to volunteer only the bare minimum of provisions, enough to get my family out of Allanovian?

If that was the case, why didn’t it surprise me? Did I have so little faith in people?

Eledis, on the other hand, let his muscles loosen while a smirk crawled across his face. He would be pleased, so long as he got what he wanted. The old man had never cared how he achieved his goals, merely that he did.

“Even if Allanovian gave us all of its food, we couldn’t skirt the Fractured Peaks to a viable harbor before our people started starving, and I don’t like our chances of finding other sources of food along the way, not for a group as large as ours would presumably be,” he said. “I’d like to set sail from Sev, the closest of the Robzul city states, as it would mean less interference from Queen Kaedesa. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not deal with charges of treason on top of everything else. That means circumnavigating the mountain range, which will add weeks to our travel time.

“Our honorable Council members have argued that we should choose a closer port to disembark from. I, respectfully, disagree. The risk of starvation will be worth escaping the notice of Ada’ir’s Queen.”

Lowering the map to the table, I hummed to myself. I had a possible answer for Eledis’ problem, but I’d always liked gathering every detail about a problem before discussing solutions.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Who would come with us?” I asked. “Zrelnach alone or will we have civilians joining us too?”

The red-faced Councilman turned a deeper shade of crimson.

“You want more than the Zrelnach to leave with you?” he snarled.

“Did I say that?” I asked. “I just want to know what sort of people my family will be traveling with. I know Rhylix has expressed interest in joining us. Has anyone else expressed a similar desire, or is it only him?”

“That coward?” one of the men said with a sniff. “Please. You don’t need to worry about anyone following his example.”

Pausing, I wrinkled my nose.

“Coward?” I said to myself. “Why would anyone think Rhy’s a coward?”

In her corner, Ferin sucked in a quiet gasp, but the men presented me with expressions that ranged from incredulous to mildly curious.

“Forgive me, young one,” the curious one said, “but during your recent trial, what vision did you see?”

What the hell did my second Zrelnach trial have to do with my question?

“I saw Rhylix rescue his little sister before fleeing an overwhelming force,” I answered with a frown. “A ridiculous number of people were coming from his hometown, trying to run them down, and I-”

I couldn’t think about what I’d done after that.

“And behavior like that doesn’t scream cowardly to you?” the irate Councilman said.

“No…” I drawled. “It seems perfectly logical. Why fight an enemy that will massacre you when you can live to fight another day?”

The men seemed to find what I’d said mighty disgruntling, but after a beat, Ferin burst into laughter.

“He’s right,” she gasped. “Alouin help me for breaking the Zrelnach mold by saying this, but the kid’s right. Given what we saw during the trial, Rhy’s actions make the most tactical sense.”

…Given what they’d seen? Had people other than myself seen Rhylix’s memory, and if so, how many? Why had he allowed such an invasion of his privacy?

“Can we return to the original question, please?” Eledis grumbled. “Should we expect civilians with us on our journey?”

Wincing, the annoyed Councilman said, “Doubtful. Why does it matter?”

“Every detail is relevant when making a plan,” I said before freezing.

Where had that come from?

“At least, I think it’s so,” I continued.

The Council and Eledis were staring at me, but I wasn’t quite sure what they wanted. I held perfectly still while a random ache of loss pulsed through me. When Eledis relaxed with a smile, I nearly collapsed at the release of pressure.

“Do you have a plan?” the older man asked.

“Not as such,” I said. “Only, I noticed a direct path beneath the mountains here.”

I jabbed my finger at the map that I’d recently lowered.

“Why would we skirt the Fractured Peaks when we have that?”

Fixing an indulgent smile in place, the irate Councilman said, “That’s our route to Allanovian’s tear. No one willingly traverses it.”

I cocked my head.

“Why not?”

I’d read of tears before, and because of that, I knew they were considered dangerous, but I’d never learned why. Based on the reactions I was receiving, I gathered that this knowledge might have been commonplace. If so, most authors wouldn’t think to mention it.

“Forgive my grandson,” Eledis said with a tight voice. “He’s lived in isolation for as long as his memory stretches. He doesn’t understand a tear’s effects on people, much less what one is.”

“Ah. I suppose that explains the suggestion,” Ferin said before turning to me. “Tears are known to drive people mad, young warrior. Not many can escape one’s influence.

“Even still, the exceptionally brave and reckless occasionally take their chance with one because they could find otherworldly items near a tear. Often times, these items are what bolster a nation or town’s economy.

“All of which is to say that bringing a couple hundred Zrelnach near one would prove exceptionally foolish.”

Dropping my gaze to the map, I weighed what the Zrelnach Commander had said, forcibly ignoring my resistance to her words.

“It seems my general education is lacking. Perhaps over the next few months, someone will see fit to fill in those gaps,” I said, “but for now, I’d ask whether the chance of this proposed disaster is more or less likely than starvation while skirting the mountains. Let’s start there.”

The only calm Councilman lowered his hands to the table, narrowing his eyes.

“He’s made a good point,” he said.

Wait, what? I hadn’t been trying to make a point, merely gather more information, but Ferin cautiously nodded agreement while the incensed Councilman whipped his head between them with his mouth agape.

“You can’t be serious, Shafoth,” he said. “Ferin?”

The Zrelnach Commander shrugged.

“Why should you care what route we take, Hemly?” she said. “You won’t be joining us.”

…Us?

“I’m sorry,” I cut in before anyone else could speak. “You’re coming along?”

Something besides boredom took residence on Ferin’s face while guardedness flickered to life in her eyes.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she asked. “I’m the commander of the armed force that you mean to take. It’s only logical that I accompany you.”

It was. That didn’t mean I wanted it. Did I have a feasible way of refusing her help, though?

“Forgive me. I thought your duties on the Council might keep you here,” I said. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“Oh, I’m not offended, just confused,” Ferin said, “but you cleared that up for me. Not to worry. If I have my way, the remnant of Zrelnach left here won’t be large enough to warrant a Councilor any longer.”

“I see,” I said.

How unfortunate.

With a slight smile, Ferin turned to Eledis.

“Do you object to taking the path under the Fractured Peaks?” she asked. “We could traverse it as slow or fast as you like.”

Making a face, Eledis said, “Fast would be better. I’d rather get as far from Allanovian as possible before another of Doldimar’s minions descends upon us.”

At that, my lips twitched. Well played, mentioning the threat this city was under while my family inhabited it. He’d done it after extracting a promise of support from its leaders as well. Maybe in the future, Eledis could teach me how to negotiate.

Slapping the table, Ferin said, “It’s decided, then. We’ll go under the mountains. A good suggestion made by our soon-to-be king.”

The others murmured agreement, nodding to me, and I stood stock still, somehow keeping myself from cocking my head.

What had that last bit been about? King? Surely Ferin hadn’t meant me.

“Shall we discuss logistics, then?” Eledis asked.

“I think that’s only fair. After all, Allanovian will need to ensure its own survival once you’ve left,” Hemly said. “Does the young one have any ideas for that discussion?”

Still caught on what Ferin had said, I half-heard the question.

“I… do not,” I said. “In fact, I’d like to retire for the evening. Long day and all. Unless another topic will turn this venerable group of people into squabbling children again?”

Several faces soured at that, but I hardly noticed, already making my way out of the chamber.

“Good night, Eledis,” I said.

As I turned the corner, I heard him making apologies for my behavior, but I didn’t pause long enough to listen. After finding an empty corner, I put my back to it, thunking my head on stone as I gasped. Shivers ran over me, and I rubbed my arms, trying to fight off chills.

“You did well.”

Focusing my eyes, I grimaced on seeing Dim and Bright.

“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”

Because throughout that conversation, I’d felt barely in control.

“I’m also glad to see that you’ve returned to these twin guises,” I continued. “What you showed me before… I don’t want to see it again.”

Losing control like that hadn’t been pleasant.

As Dim and Bright went unnaturally still, I rolled my eyes. At the moment, I couldn’t handle the puzzle of them. I’d only sought solitude to calm my nerves, not to consult with beings that I barely understood.

Alouin, did the people of Allanovian actually expect me to be a king, or had that been… a slip of the tongue? It was a flimsy explanation for what I’d heard, but I couldn’t consider anything else. Too many issues were stacked on my plate. I couldn’t add ruling a kingdom to them.

Too many other issues… Too many…

Roughly shaking myself, I whispered, “I really need to speak with dad.”

I’d taken a step toward the corridor when Bright popped in front of me.

“We can lead you to Aramar,” it said.

“If you like,” Dim added.

Meaning I wouldn’t need to speak with someone else?

“I would like that,” I said. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Raimie.”

I followed my twins through Allanovian. Presumably because I’d invited them to stay, Bright and Dim didn’t vanish when other people filled the corridors, but they never spoke a word to distract me, which was good.

Because the further along we traveled, the more a sense of familiarity raised its head. Was another memory of this place, buried beneath fever and ignorance, about to come forth?

My twins soon stopped beside a cleft in a rock wall, gesturing toward it, and as I approached, I made a face. This would be fun.

Shimmying into the cleft, I sidled sideways while its walls brushed along my shrunken profile. What was this supposed to be? A bottleneck? That would make sense for the entrance to the Zrelnach common room.

Dragging myself through a last bit of rock, I stumbled into the open, panting from the effort of it. I found myself in a cavern filled with tables as well as a wall made of kegs. Another wall held several wood-burning stoves with a counter separating them from the cavern’s open space. As they did throughout Allanovian, bracketed torches provided light here, although a handful of chandeliers were hanging between the stalactites overhead.

And all of this was swarmed by Esela, swathed in black leather.

Abruptly aware of how out of place I was, I backed toward the fissure, but I couldn’t reach it before several people in the room noticed my presence. Their stares nailed me in place as surely as an illusion of Teron might have while a wave of quiet traveled through the cavern. The Zrelnach impassively watched me, and almost beneath my notice, I shifted into a defensive stance, resting a hand on Silverblade’s hilt.

A woman close to the entrance stood, raising her mug overhead, and one by one, the other Esela followed her example until hundreds of deadly people were saluting me.

“Welcome, worthy one,” the woman said.

The words echoed from dozens of lips, and the Zrelnach took a drink from their mugs or goblets.

And then, they sat. And they ignored me. And I relaxed, if only a little bit.

“Son!”

A hand lifted from among a dense group of people found deeper in the cavern, and I wandered toward it, eventually finding my father at a table with several other Zrelnach.

“How’d it go?” he asked. “Is Eledis still alive, the stubborn bastard?”

“Yes, thank Alouin,” I said. “I managed to cool down tempers before anything disastrous could occur.”

“Well, that’s all right then,” my father said. “Sit, sit! I’ve got a mug of your favorite for you.”

Taking the only available seat, I eyed the Zrelnach around me. I’d wanted this to be a private conversation. My father had seemed to understand that, so why was I surrounded by strangers?

“These are friends from my time here,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind them joining us. They’ll act as a buffer between us and other Zrelnach.”

“Ok. I get that, I guess,” I said. “Their names?”

Grinning, my father pounded the back of the man beside him.

“This is Gistrick, one of the finest warriors you’ll ever meet,” he said.

Wincing, the man said, “That’s not true anymore, though, is it? Not with this injury.”

He gestured toward a part of his body that I couldn’t see, and my father rolled his eyes.

“Ignore him,” he said. “He’s always been modest. Now. This is…”

He continued introducing the others, but I stayed stuck on the first one. This stranger was the one who’d offered me support before my first trial, the only Zrelnach to do so, and I could swear I’d met him before, which was impossible. I hadn’t known Esela existed before meeting Rhylix so why…?

Something slid across the table to me, and I reflexively caught it, wincing when amber liquid splashed over my hand. I hated this stuff.

“I propose a toast,” my father said.

He lifted his mug high, and the Zrelnach at the table joined him.

“To Raimie, the best son a father could ask for and a man resilient enough to overcome the challenges raised against him,” he continued.

“To Raimie!”

Mugs were clunked together, although I kept mine on the table. I did, however, drink with them when the time called for it. Closing my eyes, I savored the taste of what passed over my tongue. No matter how much I might hate most forms of alcohol, I had to admit that this was some good brandy.

Better to think about that than how the coming conversation would negate my father’s toast.

“So,” he said, “from what you said earlier, I gather we need to talk, both of us. Why don’t you go first?”

But how should I do that? How did I share a weakness with people who would one day leap into danger with me?

“It’s ok, Raimie,” Gistrick said. “All of us have been where you are, at least partially. Talking about it is healthy, and no one will judge you for it.”

How could this stranger know what I was dealing with? Almost, I laughed in his face but… but…

Opening up to these people might show greater strength than rejecting their offer of companionship.

“I need someone to share how they’ve dealt with their guilt,” I said, “or to help make sense of my new life, at least. I need…”

I didn’t know what could fix the mess that I’d become over the span of a week. Maybe nothing could, but before we set off on a journey that was sure to be fraught with danger, I’d like something or someone to anchor me. Otherwise, I’d continue drifting, and that would see me killed.

No one at the table would meet my eyes, though, and I clenched my hands around my mug. Would they refuse to help me with this? Where was my father with his constantly promised advice?

After slowly breathing out, I said, “I know none of you have been in my situation. I don’t expect you to help me with it, not fully. You’ve probably never learned that your family has kept a secret from you for your whole life, and I don’t expect you’ll relate to the sense of betrayal that goes with it.”

Jerking his head to me, my father opened his mouth, but I barreled over him.

“Nor do I expect anything useful for when everyone’s determining your future for you. You can’t understand the helplessness that comes with knowing you can’t change it,” I said. “Maybe some of you can help me grapple with how my presence led to the massacre of everyone I’ve known, but I know, I fucking know, that all of you have killed before.

“So, tell me. How do you bury that? How do you stop seeing your victim’s face when your eyes shutter closed? How do you make this sickening self-hatred, one that’s tearing into you with every second, go the hell away? How do you live with yourself when you’ve ended someone’s life before their time? How… how?”

Stretching my hands in front of me, I flinched at the red stickiness covering them.

Hadn’t I cleaned these? I had. I knew I had and yet…

Hugging myself, I pretended that I wasn’t hiding murder weapons or clawing my fingers into my sides. Meanwhile, the people at the table shifted, looking for help with answering my plea, but when someone tried to do that, it didn’t come from the Zrelnach in front of me.

“It’s a process.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I wanted to bristle at the sight of the woman behind me, but here, at the end of this long day, I was too wrung dry to acknowledge my distaste.

“With time, the guilt will fade,” Ferin said. “At times, the process may seem to take forever, and throughout your life, slivers of remorse will make resurgences into your life, but each relapse will hurt less. Eventually, the face you see will go fuzzy, but honestly, young warrior? I find it’s better if that never happens. To me, remembering those faces is my way of honoring my victims. But unfortunately, there’s no quick fix for self-loathing. The best thing you can do tonight is get thoroughly drunk with friends. Don’t do it alone.”

With a soft smile, she patted my shoulder before continuing toward a counter. Watching her place an order, I wondered what that had been meant to be. Had Ferin been easing a guilty conscience? And how had she been behind me at the precise moment when I’d needed her advice?

“The commander is wise. You’d do well to heed her advice.”

Turning back to the table, I stared Gistrick down, wondering if he could understand the internal struggle I’d been grappling with.

“Raimie… I had no idea that you thought Eledis and I had betrayed you,” my father said. “We never meant to hurt you-”

“I know,” I interrupted.

Grimacing, I decided to take Ferin’s advice, lifting my mug to down its contents. When I slammed it, empty, onto the table, one of the Zrelnach stood, presumably to retrieve another.

“I know that your intention was to keep me safe,” I continued, “and I don’t blame you for it. I even accept it, intellectually, but I’ve never been the best at controlling my feelings. You know that.”

Lifting his mug, my father mumbled into it.

“You’d be surprised how much control you have when compared to others.”

How was I supposed to respond to that? Fortunately, the Zrelnach from earlier quickly returned, handing off another drink.

“Thank you,” I said before turning to my father. “What did you want to tell me?”

Making a face, he said, “That’s a subject best saved for another time.”

“So, you’re going to keep a secret from me. Again,” I said.

“It’s not like that! I’d rather wait for a better-”

“Just tell him, Aramar,” Gistrick sighed. “It’ll hurt him either way. Get it over with.”

A crater formed in my stomach. Hurt me? What did my father mean to share?

Swallowing, my father flicked his eyes over the cavern while spinning his mug between his hands.

“The fight with Teron,” he said. “Something happened during it.”

He clenched his jaw, and I couldn’t move from the awkward position I was sitting in. What had that evil bastard done?

Gistrick nudged my father, and he puffed out a sigh.

“The Enforcer broke my back,” he said. “I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”

A heady combination of numbness and detachment blasted through me, leaving me adrift outside my body. This couldn’t be real, could it? It had to be a cruel joke.

“But I’ve seen you walking around since then,” I said. “If you were paralyzed…”

He couldn’t walk, could he?

“Your friend, Rhylix, set me up with a contraption that came through Allanovian’s tear, something from another world,” my father said. “It lets me walk, but doing so isn’t… pleasant.”

Standing, he lifted his tunic a fraction, revealing the metal band circling his waist, before sitting once more.

“I’ll eventually get used to the twinges but for now…”

My father shrugged, and the pit in my stomach carved deeper into me.

“I’m sorry, dad,” I said. “If I’d been a little faster-”

“Don’t you dare,” my father snapped. “This is, in no way, your fault. Teron can have all the blame, thank you very much. The only reason I’m telling you about it is so you’ll know that I can’t move as quickly as I used to. It might be best to leave me-”

Still watching myself from a distant perch, I shot to my feet, scraping my chair across the floor as I did.

“Hell no!” I shouted. “You’re my father. Don’t you dare suggest that I abandon you.”

Warmth sprang into my father’s eyes, even as he darted them over the cavern.

“Son…” he said.

Crashing into my body, I noted the dead silence around me and the eyes staring my way. I sank into my seat, shrinking on myself, until conversation resumed in the cavern, but as if to contradict my dread over a perceived mistake, the people around the table—all of them except my father—grinned at me.

“Nicely done. That’s solidified the loyalty of many people here,” Gistrick said.

Had he meant that genuinely, or had it been intended as an insult?

“Thank you?” I said.

“Seems the toast you gave wasn’t an exaggeration, Aramar,” a woman beside my father said.

When she elbowed him, he chuckled.

“You doubted me?” he asked.

“No!”

“We could never.”

“It’s not like you’ve said similar things about people, only to have them proven false later,” Gistrick said. “You’re too trusting at times, my friend.”

My father stiffened, glaring at the Eselan.

“How dare you,” he said. “I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent judge of character!”

“Sure you are.”

Since the people around the table seemed finished with me, I watched them banter with one another. Almost, I left to find a bed but decided against it in the end. Who knew when I could drink with friendly people in a safe place again? I’d take advantage of it while I could.

After all, tomorrow would mark the beginning of a long journey and the next phase in my life. May it be as kind to me as the first once had been.