44.

Travel, Weary Wanderers

It was kind of the Aeonics to grant Cedric and Faunia their own individual house-tents — tents much larger on the inside than the out, with finely decorated interiors and warmth and food and magelight — but it was painfully unfamiliar.

Cedric did not spend long in his before he returned to the campfire they'd all once been huddled around. He slouched down onto a log chair and silently beckoned Serkukan. The fire reignited.

Then his eyes went upward to the stars. Every move with their Etherians was another prayer that the Moment was still holding Kogar captive. Whatever that really means.

There was a stirring from Faunia's tent. Barely a few moments later, she wandered out in her plainclothes, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head. "Can't sleep. I don't know the last time I slept in a luxurious thing like that."

"You had housetents in Cromer?"

"I meant a house. The one we had left… something to be desired."

He shrugged. She soon took a seat on the log across from him. Her pale face appeared darker in the warm glow. Her expression wasn't pained or stressed as it usually was, though there was still a somber undertone to even her most inexpressive expression.

"I forget you come from a name. Vleren. Felt like in Azar'kara, they'd call you that more than Faunia."

"That's how it goes. I'm surprised you remembered."

"Bits and pieces. I hope I'll get the rest of it eventually. Or, at least the highlights. Our bout against Jirtu, against Rykaedi… and I want to know about Ozzod and Kag'thine as well."

She nodded. "We're very… dutiful. Doesn't hurt to loosen up once in a while. Let's talk about something else."

He nodded slightly. "I'm not sure there's much more to me than that. You've probably got art and literature and all sorts to think about. I'm simple: I fight, I eat, I sleep. That's how my life has been since..." His voice trailed off.

Faunia noticed his discomfort. "It's true that I took art classes once in Cromer. I'd aspired to be a painter once upon a time. Music, too, I'd experimented with. But… I suppose I could never resist my urge to protect those in need. I never managed to avoid a fight, even if it wasn't my fight."

"Mm." he said. "I didn't have the luxuries of any classes or… hobbies."

"You were from Cylenia originally. Weren't you?"

"Kinda." He looked into the flames.

"Tell me. Please."

"I was born in Kylinstrom. In one of the smaller villages. It doesn't exist anymore. It fell after the ogres became more active. I don't remember any of it, but… My adoptive father was an ogre. He wanted to raise me as a fighter, had some ambition of a better life for ogres. Wanted to take. Until they would have ruled Kylinstrom. Not that it ever would have happened with the Hunters so close to their breeding grounds."

"Lands be damned…" Her mouth fell open.

"He… married, let's say, an elven woman in Cylenia. My mother. My mother."

It had been some time since he'd thought of her. There was a horrible aching of guilt that came with it.

"The same one I killed when the Sylvet came."

Faunia's face filled with despair.

Cedric shut his eyes. "You know that part of the story. They took me when I was young. They taught me to be a warlord. If only things had worked out in Nelreign, the continents never would have even been rejoined."

"But we'd be turning a blind eye to Kogar's misdeeds. We're here for a reason."

"I hope so…"

Cedric raised his pantleg. Faunia looked, and noticed a dull white glowing through the skin, as though he’d held a magelight behind it.

“Ithlo,” he consoled, “that’s enough for now.”

And the glow faded.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Your legs. They still hurt?” asked Faunia.

“Your kicking them didn’t help much.”

She smiled slightly then let it fall away to concern. “Do you need Tirolith back?”

“No. No, keep her. I wanted to give you Okella, too. When we get her back…”

And so he stood, wobbly, shaky-legged, and forced himself up from the log until he was upright. His face grimaced with pain.

Then he fell clumsily back onto the log.

Faunia stood and wandered to his side. She reached a glowing hand out for his leg.

"Healing magic hasn't done much for it. It's the Etherians that work. Tirolith, Okella, sometimes just Serkukan."

"How about soothing magic, then?" she asked, and placed her hand gently onto his warm skin.

He winced, first, then eased into the sensation. A small smile formed upon his lips. "Not bad. I wish I'd known it sooner."

She smiled back. "It's nice once in a while to reflect on where everything's gotten us. This whole thing has been a mess since day one…"

"Day one being the day that I wandered into Azar'kara?"

"Day one being the day Algirak died. When we went to Freiya, saw the death… the havoc in your wake. Serkukan's wake, I mean."

"My wake as well, some of it. There's no use pretending that it wasn't. I think that's why I don't want them to die."

"Who? The Twelve?"

"Anyone. But, yes, they're included."

"Throkos was an accident, if you're blaming yourself for that."

"I left the door wide open. I sealed it shut on Jirtu, who knows if he'll be back."

"We do what we have to do. We survive. We're soldiers, born to fight and do as we're…"

Nobody's telling us what to do anymore.

She looked at him, shining in the camplight.

It's been him, commanding me since we reached Calamon. Since we reunited. He's always been ahead. He's always ready to take the reins of his own life, not to sit back and let some master at a leash command him like a dog.

I'm the one who's afraid. Not him. I'm the one with regret. He just has consequence.

Cedric smiled softly at her.

"Let us not forget that you led the fight against Alisa, you protected Calamon. You led an army, a capital."

"Rykaedi would have done it without me, with less casualty on my part."

"Even so." she pleaded, as though wanting to say more.

Cedric simply looked up at the stars above. "Did you know that the stars above, they're… other worlds? They hold knowledge and love and joy and war and loss all their own." he said, reciting his own interpretation of Jirtu's ramblings. "They say that they're what inspired the Obek Pantheon. You can see their shapes and images up there."

He pointed. First to Vezos, god of the abyss, then Vecca, god of the self. Again he outlined Kosos, god of moon and star…

"Where's Hemah?" asked Faunia.

"She's not up there. A god can either be in the heavens or on Caloria. Or so the story goes."

"And Tartys?"

He pointed. He'd been watching the constellation of Tartys for days, ever since Calamity first opened up. He was very familiar with the shape of it.

But where his finger touched the sky, there was only a blank space. Tartys was… missing?

No—

"Tartys is… on Caloria." he gasped.

X

A man walked the streets of Calamon, beneath the black sky. He could see Hemah up there, scalding the flesh of those below. He could see the people dying, covered in burns and black marks of the caine disease. He could see blood poured onto the ground of some alleys. Corpses littering the streets.

He smiled. He didn't think he could smile with that face, the square jaw and young pale flesh, the unfamiliar short black hair that sat at a perfect height over his forehead. His eyes glistened as a bright, vibrant blue. More blue than any thought possible.

He smiled his perfect smile again. He brushed the dirt off his leather garb.

"Oy!" came a call. A robed man jumped out ahead with a large knife in his hand. Two more figures rushed out behind him.

He smiled at them, unsure of what other expressions he could make. "Hand it over, everything you've got!"

"Okay." he said, smiling. He began to strip his leather armor.

"Stop, you sodding moron! Your money! Your coin!"

"I don't have any." He continued to undress.

"Fuckin' pest!" spat the man before him. He rushed with his knife.

The man stopped undressing. His smile fell instantly. His arm raised, catching the wrist of his assailant.

The hand dropped the knife. In fact, the hand dissipated into ash onto the wind.

And then went the rest of his body.

He spun to the other two.

They whimpered and screamed, sprinted away.

And then he smiled again. "Nice to meet you, too. I,

am Tartys."