Wagons drove up the small path and the relief that came over Sarien when the farmers turned out to be human was almost indescribable. Sarien had thought they’d made it back, but it wasn’t until he saw their human faces that he knew he’d been right.

Sarien and Tomford were lifted into the wagon by strong and capable hands, and Sarien did his best to evade questions about the strange light that the group of farmers had come to investigate. Sarien lied and said that the light they saw from their homes was simply the torches they used reflecting off the coming dawn. It was far from the truth, of course, since there were no torches to be found, but the farmers left it at that.

Explaining away the corpses proved more difficult, especially when the men caught a good look at the strange features of the rhinn. Sarien babbled on about deformities and cults and the men looked at him as if he was raving mad. It didn’t matter, as they still brought them both to the nearby farm to convalesce. Sarien watched the farmers bury the dead rhinn soldiers on the other side of the road and off their field as the wagon he rode in pulled away. They were superstitious enough not to bury the strange men on their own land.

Sarien took care not to let any of them touch the new weapons he’d imbued. He didn’t need to bother as the farmers eyed them warily.

Sarien and Tomford were brought to a small but clean and orderly house. A young farmer lived there with his wife. From what Sarien gathered, they’d been married for less than a month.

“Thank you for helping us,” Sarien said again, as they placed the unconscious Tomford in the house’s only bed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” the young farmer said.

His name was Felix, and he was trying to grow out a sandy brown mustache but was failing. Bald spots pocketed his upper lip. Like most farmers in Maydian, his hair was clipped short, and his face was wrinkled from spending his days under the sun. It made him look older than his years. His eyes were sent in a perpetual half-squint, as if they were expecting the rest of his face to follow in a grin or smile at any second.

“Ya can stay as long as ya like.”

“Let me fix ya up with some breakfast,” Felix’s wife said. Sarien hadn’t caught her name yet. She drifted to a cupboard and pulled out a loaf of bread. Her hair was long, darker, and curled at the ends. Despite her short stature, she seemed to fill the room with her serene spirit. Her complexion spoke of her not being from Eldsprak. Now that Sarien thought about it, the tone of Felix’s skin was a little darker than what you’d see in a farmer around Sarien’s home, too.

“Where are we?” Sarien asked.

“What do ya mean?” Felix asked. “Yer at my house, aren’t ya?”

“No, well yes. I mean, is this Eldsprak?”

Felix’s wife chuckled from over by the wall, where she was pouring cups of water. “Are ya sure ya didn’t hit yer head?”

Felix’s face creased with concern. “Yer in Tyriu, not Eldsprak. Do ya need to lie down?”

Sarien blinked and fell back into a chair. “Where in Tyriu exactly?”

From what Sarien understood, the kingdom was enormous, almost as large as Eldsprak. If they were in the wrong part of the country, it could mean endless weeks of travel to reach Tyralien. He still wasn’t sure why him and Tomford reappeared in an empty field in Tyriu and not back in Primie Woods.

“Oh, north,” Felix answered.

“Near the ocean?” Sarien asked, bracing for the answer.

“I guess, if the bay counts, but the border is just a stone’s throw from here. Yer not that far from home,” the wife said. “Now come and eat something.”

Sarien breathed a sigh of relief. They were north of Tyralien, which meant no more than two days ride on horseback to reach the capital. Depending on how long they’d been gone, they might even reach their destination before Goslin and the others, as long as Tomford woke up soon.

Sarien got up with some difficulty and limped to a small round table. He accepted the slice of bread and a cup of clean water. “Thank you.” He looked at the empty places before Felix and his wife. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Na, we ate hours ago,” Felix said. “Ya go ahead, though.”

“Am I keeping you from your work?” It was early in the morning still. A time farmers usually spent laboring in their fields before the day grew too hot.

Felix fidgeted slightly but covered it up with a smile. “Think nothing of it. There’s still plenty of time.”

“No, there isn’t!” the wife said, her tone hard. “I’m fine here. Ya go work, Felix. We need to ship the grain by the day after tomorrow!”

Felix glanced to Sarien, then to Tomford, and finally to the sword and spear leaning against the wall next to the bed. “Are ya sure, Mil?”

“Of course, I am,” Mil said. “Ya go now.”

“Hold on,” Sarien said. “Grain shipment? This late in the year?” The farmers around the Karm estate never had to ship grain this late into fall. It was a time to conduct inventory, to stock up for the coming winter, and plan for next spring. Perhaps they did things differently in Tyriu.

“We have to give a little extra this year,” Felix said, averting his gaze.

“A little?” Mil scoffed, and adjusted the gray bonnet she wore. “Bleeding us dry, the bastard.”

“Don’t go talking about that with our guests,” Felix scolded. Sarien focused on the slice of bread in his hand as an awkward silence fell upon the small family. Felix reached for his coat and sighed. “I’ll be going then. Holler if ya need me.”

“Thank you,” Sarien said. “Do you need help?”

Felix eyed Sarien’s injured leg. “Don’t ya worry. Put yer feet up.”

With the door closed, Mil spoke up, “Don’t ya dare put yer feet up on my table.”

“Wouldn’t think to,” Sarien said, raising his hands. When he heard Felix stomping off toward the field adjacent to the house, Sarien asked, “So they’re expecting more grain from you than usual?”

“Yeh.”

“You should band together and push back,” Sarien said.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

A thoughtful expression passed over Mil’s face. “Yer trying to say we should kill ‘im?”

Sarien choked on the sip of water he just took. He coughed violently. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Eat ‘im?”

“What? No!” Sarien said. “Just band together and bargain with the landlord together. It’ll make it easier for you, trust me. Just the threat of farmers coming together had been enough to make Hacha nervous back at the estate. Sarien didn’t envy the lord of this place if the farmers managed to work out how to squeeze him.

“I don’t know,” Mil said. “I’ll talk to Felix about it.” She looked over to the bed. “Is yer friend going to be well?”

“He should be,” Sarien said. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Don’t ya worry, yerself. If ya don’t mind, I’ve got chores. Ya take yer ease and whatnot.”

“Thank you,” Sarien said again. She waved a dismissive hand and disappeared through the front door. A chill wind blew in before the door shut, and Sarien shivered.

There wasn’t much he could do while waiting for Tomford to wake. Not with his leg the way it was. Couldn’t even practice with his new spear, not that the small house would allow for much movement without endangering the furniture.

He looked at the spear and the sword leaning against the wall near the bed. Sarien didn’t want to imagine the rhinn trapped within. The sword was in a sheathe he’d taken from one of the soldier’s bodies, but the spear stood there without anything obscuring the metal’s dark sheen.

Sarien limped over to it and grabbed the shaft.

WHERE AM I? IS THIS DEATH?

You’re in my spear.

YOUR SPEAR? WHO ARE YOU?

Sarien Wald. You attempted to kill me and my friend.

YES. THE WAYPOINT. RELEASE ME.

You’ll die. He didn’t even know if he could release someone from the imprisonment, as he chose to think of it. What would happen if he tried to just release the rhinn?

I AM DEAD.

Not exactly.

I AM NOTHING. I AM DEAD. RELEASE ME.

Is this not better than nothing? You are still something.

I HAD A WIFE. A SON.

Sarien pulled his hand from the spear. He couldn’t listen anymore. The rhinn inside had been a soldier and wanted Sarien dead, but that didn’t mean destroying him would come without consequences. This was one he would have to bear, but he wouldn’t force himself to listen to the trapped man’s pleas. It was callused, but what could he do?

He thought back to the combat on that field. In the last moment, he’d made a shield of black flames to protect himself from the rhinn. If he could manipulate the magic inside him to that extent, the possibilities were endless.

Sarien’s body was spent, but he felt that the twin powers inside him had recovered. It barely required any concentration to bring forth the black flame. It danced in his palm despite there being no draft inside the room. Instead of giving light, it almost seemed to absorb light into itself, darkening the air around it.

He focused and manipulated the shape, multiplying the flame and extending it into the form of a sword made out of pure black fire. It radiated darkness, making it difficult to see past the blade.

Sarien looked around the room for something to try the sword against and settled on one of the chairs. If it broke, he could pay for a replacement with the coin purse he still carried filled from when he left the tower.

He swung the blade and watched as it struck the wood. Nothing happened. There was no impact and no sound. The flames ghosted past without inflicting damage. Perhaps he should have expected that to happen. The flame wasn’t tangible.

Sarien brought the sword back to his side and stepped back, forgetting about his injured leg. He screamed, arms flailing, before he caught himself against the wall.

The flame sword stayed ignited and began to spread on its own will. Flames at the top bent and stretched, hurtling toward Tomford.

Sarien yelled as the black flames reached his friend. “No!”

His head filled with agonized screams.

AAAAAAAAAAAA

Sorry! Sorry! Please forgive me!

What had he done? Tomford’s prone body on the bed looked pale and withered when Sarien bent over and placed the black flame against his friend’s skin. He had no idea what to do next, but he needed to figure it out. Just thinking about Tomford’s consciousness trapped in that flame made him want to hurl.

Sarien focused and willed the flame to release Tomford back to his body, forcing it to bend to his command.

A wash of relief flooded over Sarien as he felt Tomford’s consciousness return to his body, and he quickly dispelled the sword.

“What in the name of Ocea’s bloated corpse was that?” Tomford asked, immediately sitting up. He shivered and looked at Sarien. “What did you do?”

“I’m sorry!” Sarien said, groaning as he slid down to the floor. “You got caught in the flame.”

“What flame?”

“My sword.”

Tomford’s face reddened from anger. “You trapped me in a sword? Like that one?” he asked, pointing to the one leaning against the wall.

Sarien winced. “Not on purpose! Sorry! I put you back!”

Tomford was breathing hard, his hands clenched tightly in fists. Sarien worried that his friend was about to give him the throttling of his life when Tomford deflated. “You didn’t do it on purpose?”

“No!”

“Tell me what happened.”

“I managed to create a sword of my own with my black flame, but I lost control and it pulled toward you, like it was searching for a target,” Sarien explained.

Tomford shook his head slowly. “You need to learn how to control your powers if you’re going to use it.” He looked around the small house, then at the weapons. “You beat the rhinn? All three of them?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t as heroic as it sounds.”

“Let’s just call us even then. You saved me and then almost killed me.”

“I’m good with that,” Sarien said, grinning. “At least you’re up now. How are you feeling?”

“Like I could sleep for another week, but I’ll manage.” The wound in Sarien’s leg opened up again when he fell, and his trousers were soaked with blood.

“Let me get that for you,” Tomford said, reaching out. A surge of cold rushed through Sarien as the wound closed, along with the one on his arm.

“Thank you.”

“Where are we?” Tomford asked, his face still a little pale.

“A young couple lives here. Farmers. They told me that we’re just south of the border to The Kinship of Jordfaste, near the Bay of Peace.”

Tomford scratched his neck. “I don’t know much about geography.”

“About two days from Tyralien on horseback.”

“Right,” Tomford said, nodding. “Do we have horses?”

“We don’t,” Sarien admitted. “But we do have money.” He fished out the purse of gold. “Perhaps the farmers will sell two to us.”

“Let’s hope so,” Tomford said. “We need to get to Tyralien as quickly as possible.”

Sarien got up and tested his leg. The pain was gone. “Do you want to head out right away?”

“Yeah. Let get some food first, then we’ll leave. I really don’t like not knowing what happened in the clearing after we left. Are you going to bring the sword and the spear?”

“Can’t leave the weapons here,” Sarien said, grabbing the sword.

“I’ll tell you this,” Tomford said. “Being trapped like that was not a pleasant experience. How long was I in that flame of yours?”

Sarien shrugged. “A few seconds? Less than a minute, anyway.”

“Felt like ages,” Tomford said, shuddering. “Like the worst kind of prison. You should release those poor men if you can.”

“I don’t know what will happen to them if I do.”

“Try it. Anything is better than being trapped.”

“Fine,” Sarien said, pulling the sword from the sheathe.

AAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

He heard two distinct screams. “Impossible,” Sarien said.

“What?”

“It’s not just one. There’s two of them in there.”

“Didn’t you say that the second one would push the first one out?” Tomford asked.

“That’s what I thought,” Sarien said. “Heradion insinuated as much. It’s too bad I can’t test this properly without hurting anyone.” He shuddered at the thought of those rhinn men’s bodies buried in the earth. They weren’t necessarily dead, just in some sort of stasis. “Maybe that luison somehow killed or destroyed the bandit?”

“This is getting pretty abstract,” Tomford said. “I’m hungry. Just release one of them. Or both.”

“Right.” Sarien focused and his black flame burst out. It danced along the blade’s edge. There was not much to differentiate between the two trapped rhinn soldiers. One disjointed mind looked very much like the other.

Sarien grabbed at one of the men and held him with his mind, then brought it to the surface of the sword. He exhaled as he released the consciousness from the sword’s prison.

The far wall and half the ceiling exploded outward with a roar. The roof collapsed over Sarien and Tomford, who both yelped out in surprise. They evaded the worst of falling debris.

“Ow,” Sarien said, brushing straw from his hair and clothes.

Tomford moved a wooden beam, coughing. “That was unexpected.”

Felix and Mil stood not far from the house, their mouths gaping and their eyes wide. Sarien grabbed the sword and the spear and approached them, cringing. “Sorry.”

“What did ye do?” Felix asked. “What happened?”

Sarien held out the bag full of gold coins. “It’s hard to explain. Please forgive me. We’ll leave right away.”

Mil took the bag and opened it, her eyes widening.

Sarien cleared his throat. “I was kind of hoping that it would buy us some horses and food too.”