Sarien and Tomford returned to the field where they’d fought against the rhinn soldiers. Fresh mounds of dirt indicated where the farmers buried their bodies by the side of the road. Otherwise, the large green field was undisturbed.

“One of them is dug up,” Tomford said, indicating to one of the mounds. Dirt was flung in all directions as if someone had frantically dug up the makeshift grave. He straightened. “Do you think one of them was still alive?”

“The ones you defeated ran off,” Sarien said. “They could have returned.”

Tomford looked a little sheepish. “Right. Didn’t think of that. That’s the problem with not wanting to kill anyone.”

Sarien unsheathed the rhinn blade. It now held only one mind, after he’d released the other inside the Felix’s house. The young couple had not been pleased but had provided Sarien and Tomford with two horses and a sack of food. The amount in the purse that Sarien passed to them was enough to rebuild their house many times over.

“I’m going to try releasing the other one,” Sarien said.

“Right. Just don’t aim that thing in my direction.” Tomford took his reins and backed away.

Sarien pointed the sword up at the clear sky. Black flames wrapped around the obsidian blade. He concentrated and found the screaming consciousness trapped deep inside and when he let out a breath, the release was just as violent as the one in the farmstead. Energy blasted from the sword in an arc of black fire. It continued shooting upward silently, then finally dissipated.

The sword crumbled in Sarien’s hand, turning to a fine black dust. He wiped the last bit of it off on his coat, frowning.

“What happened?” Tomford asked.

“Don’t know. Didn’t expect the sword to just disintegrate like that.”

A muffled sound grabbed their attention, and they turned to look at the mounds of dirt. One of them was moving!

“What in the drought is going on?” Tomford asked.

“The rhinn soldier,” Sarien answered. “I think releasing them from the sword allows them to return to their bodies.” So, Sarien’s speculations were correct. The bodies weren’t dead, just empty.

Sarien and Tomford watched as a rhinn soldier fought his way free of his grave, screaming with his mouth full of dirt. He stood and looked around, wild-eyed, until his focus settled on Sarien. He screamed again in terror and ran, looking frantically over his shoulder every few steps as if he feared Sarien would follow.

“Should we catch him?”

“What would we do with him? I’m not going to kill someone who’s defenseless and fleeing, and we don’t want to keep a prisoner with us, do we?”

“I guess not,” Tomford said. “Just feels a little strange to let him run off.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment longer, watching the rhinn as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, until he disappeared by the horizon.

“Let’s head to Tyralien, then?” Sarien asked.

Felix and Mil were kind enough to give them directions before they left the farmstead. Tyralien wasn’t far and Sarien hoped they would find the others soon if they had survived the kozimuz attack.

They rode along the road without meeting a single soul. The landscape didn’t change much either, just large empty fields lining both sides of the road. It gave Sarien a sense of being stuck in time, and eventually he spoke just to break up the monotony. “You’re from Vatnbloet.”

“Yep.”

“Your family are nobles there?”

Tomford glanced at Sarien. “They are.”

“Right. But you started out wanting to be a priest?”

He chuckled. “No. I’ve never wanted to be a priest. But if you’re born with the gift, you’re sent to the priesthood. It’s an honor for your family if you manifest the ability to heal. The priests are almost like a guild of sorts, like the wind mages in Loft, or the heaters guild in Eldsprak.”

“Heaters?” Sarien asked. “Never heard that one.”

“Heat mages.”

“Right, of course. So, what did you want to become if not a healer?”

It took him a little while to answer. “I wanted to be a grower, but that was never going to happen. You’d have to be born in the Kinship for that.”

“Strange that,” Sarien mused.

Tomford frowned. “Strange how?”

“That your place of birth dictates what kind of mage you become. What happens if you’re born right on the border?”

“I don’t know,” Tomford said. “You’ll have to experiment and try for yourself. The priesthood teaches that the gods divided the realm amongst themselves to end the endless war. Ocea blessed the land that we now call Vatnbloet and made it her own, thus allowing hydromancers to be born in her loving embrace. If the other kingdoms work the same way, that means you can’t manifest powers if you’re born right on the border.” He thought for a second. “Or in the sea, like on a ship, for that matter.”

“What about before the gods, then? Were there no water mages before Vatnbloet existed?”

“The priesthood has no records of that since we don’t predate Ocea. For all we know, the gods were around for an eternity before they were killed.”

“I understand that. So, you wanted to be a grower. How did you end up a fighting priest, then?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions today.”

Sarien grinned up at his friend. “Just getting to know you.”

“Then tell me what you wanted to be when you grew up,” Tomford said, matching Sarien’s grin.

“An adventurer, of course! Like my father.”

“And now you’re on an adventure of your own, looking for him,” Tomford said.

“That’s right. Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn?” Tomford asked.

“How did you end up here?”

Sarien saw Tomford’s brow furrow in thought, as if trying to piece together his own story.

“I didn’t want to join the priests, so I hid my abilities for a long time. But, one day, one of the street urchins I played with broke her arm. She kept crying and crying and I knew that if she wasn’t treated immediately, her arm would heal incorrectly and be malformed for the rest of her life. She already lived on scraps she dug out of the trash, fighting against older men and women who were also desperate for food. A broken arm was a disadvantage and could lead to starvation. I had no choice, so I healed her. Anyway, my brother saw me and ratted me out. After that, my family forced me into the priesthood as an acolyte. I hated it. All that piety and worship of a dead god that we pretend wasn’t spiteful and jealous of her subjects. Didn’t see the point. Learning to use my power more efficiently was the only reason I tolerated the priesthood. Healing was fun and I learned fast, but that was such a small part of it. We fought a lot amongst ourselves, the acolytes, I mean, as a way to pass the time. Got my ass kicked so many times, but we needed some way to feel alive.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“That’s where you learned to fight, then?”

Tomford cleared his throat. “Learned is a very strong word, but that’s where it began, yes. We visited hospitals across the country as part of our training, and I had to deal with stab wounds and all kinds of physical trauma. Horrible stuff. Knew then that I never wanted to hold a sword.”

“What about Eldsprak Academy?” Sarien asked.

“What about it? I found that nobles from kingdoms other than Eldsprak could apply to join, so I did. Never specified that I was a priest. When I was accepted, the priests or my father couldn’t deny me going, not without losing face. Had to train with weapons there, but at least they were blunted.”

“And you didn’t go back home after graduating.”

Tomford shook his head. “There’s no place for me in the priesthood anymore. There was an accident during our final test at the academy. I killed a man. By mistake, but that makes no difference to them. Or to me, for that matter. My family would take me back, but I see nothing compelling about that life.”

“So, what will you do when we’re done with Goslin’s quest?”

“Maybe I’ll visit Jordfaste and see the growers. Healing and growing are similar, I think. If they let me in, maybe we could learn something from each other.”

Sarien nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”

The road and silence stretched long again, and they still hadn’t met a single person since the fleeing rhinn. Sarien had never stepped foot in Tyriu before, but he was certain the kingdom was more populated than it appeared, which begged the question, where was everyone?

Insects buzzed and birds soared far overhead or sat pecking in the fields. The wind blew with a cold breeze, though the black leather armor they’d been given from Falfarel kept them warm.

The world was alive. Alive, but empty. Each house and farm they passed was deserted. Every village sat empty. Sarien and Tomford stopped at one village to explore and discovered that the villagers left behind their animals and possessions. Some tables were still cluttered with half-eaten meals. When they left, they did so in a hurry.

“How do you feel about adventuring now, then?” Tomford asked after they’d left the eerily empty village behind.

“I don’t know. I’m filthy a lot of the time and the thrilling action in the stories is terrifying when you face it yourself. But it’s better than mucking stables.”

“You used to be a stable hand? Thought you said you grew up on an estate.”

“Worked at an estate. My father was the huntsmaster, but he left me—”

Tomford cut him off. “People.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Sarien asked.

“Something forced all the farmers and villagers to flee.” He nodded ahead. “These might be the ones behind it.”

“Or they’re ordinary people who might have some information or are in need of help.”

“Guess we’ll find out who they are soon enough.”

Sarien narrowed his eyes as he rode toward the cluster of people. He quickly spotted the thin, long silhouette of spears rising in the air. “They’re carrying weapons. Their uniforms might be black.”

Tomford and Sarien reined in their horses. Both of them spoke at the same time. “Rhinn.”

“How are they here?” Sarien asked.

“We know pyromancers made it over to their side. Why couldn’t they come through here?”

“Right. Of course. Then why are they here?”

Tomford looked around and raised his hands and arms in exasperation. “There’s nowhere to hide. It’s all just flatland and fields!”

Sarien kept his eyes on the group. “They’ve stopped. I think they’re doing something.”

“What?”

“Hold on,” Sarien said. He couldn’t see any more than Tomford, but he did, however, sense something. A familiar thrumming rumbled through him, resonating with an opening gateway.

“It’s one of the travelers that Falfarel spoke of. They’re opening one of their waypoints.”

“How do you know? There’s no way you’re seeing anything at this distance.”

Sarien put his free hand to his chest. “I can feel it in here.”

“It’s the same as your power?”

“Almost, but not quite. Falfarel said they can’t travel between worlds.” So, who, or what, opened the gateways between Rhinerien and Maydian?

Tomford sighed. “What a mess. That means they could be going anywhere.” He looked behind them and to all sides. “It doesn’t appear they’re coming here, at least.”

The thrumming took on a different tone, as if it had settled into a low, steady beat. “Their gate is open.” They could see the bright light of the gate from where they sat on their horses.

“I’m not sad to see them go,” Tomford said.

The rhinn left, and the gate winked out of existence behind them. Tomford and Sarien spurred their horses into motion and continued on in silence, passing the spot where the rhinn soldiers had stood.

For the rest of the day, they saw no one else, rhinn or human. Neither of them knew how to make a fire, so they ate cold bread and some sort of dried meat they bought from Felix. The horses grazed contentedly on the tall grass in the field.

Night fell, and they slept soundly to wake with the coming dawn. They were both exhausted. The fight with the kozimuz only took place the day before and so much had occurred since then. Sarien didn’t realize until much later that they should have set up watch overnight considering that the rhinn were present in the area, but the precaution escaped him. He wasn’t like Goslin, a man trained to be a warrior and leader, someone who would have thought of all the safeguards necessary to survive. As he had told Tomford, he was a stable hand who’d been thrown into this adventure almost by chance when his strange powers manifested.

They approached a thick forest. It came into view from the west at first, then grew to cover the horizon as they continued south, like a sea of yellow and orange leaves as summer faded into fall. The road passed through the woods, and they would have to go through to get to Tyralien.

At first, Sarien thought it would be a welcomed change of scenery from the rolling empty fields, but another group of rhinn waited on the road by the edge of the forest. This new group was partly hidden by a wooden structure, some sort of watch tower.

Tomford and Sarien were too close to hide once the rhinn came into view. The soldiers had been sitting on the ground but shot to their feet when they saw the approaching riders.

“What do we do?” Sarien asked.

Tomford reached over to his pack and pulled out a pair of metal gauntlets. “There’s only four of them. Let’s go through.” He dismounted and walked down the road to the soldiers. There was a confidence in his gait that Sarien hadn’t noticed before. Tomford shouted over his shoulder. “We could find out why they’re here too! Coming?”

Sarien sighed and dismounted. He grabbed his spear from the sheathe he’d made himself and jogged to catch up with Tomford. The rhinn were shouting something at him and kept their spears lowered.

By the time Sarien caught up, all four of the rhinn were already on the ground, all but one of them unconscious. Tomford’s black leather chest piece had a large rip along the front and a nasty wound was healing quickly across his chest.

“You’re not even breathing hard,” Sarien said.

Tomford shrugged. “They’re not trained. Barely knows which end of their spears to keep pointed at you.” He grabbed the one still conscious soldier by the front of his black leather uniform. “Let’s ask this one some questions before we move on.”

“That human is a monster,” the rhinn said, looking at Tomford, his voice shaking almost as much as his hands.

“You better sit. We’re going to have a little talk.” The rhinn eyed Sarien’s obsidian spear and swallowed hard.

“He didn’t tell us much,” Tomford said as they rode through the forest. He was yanking at the new leather chest piece he took from one of the defeated soldiers. It was much too small on Tomford’s frame.

Sarien and Tomford been on the road for a few hours after the fight at the outpost, following the road south. Some smaller roads connected from the west and the east, but way markers indicated that Tyralien was directly south.

Sarien turned to look at his companion. “Well, now we know that there are more of them around.”

“Yeah, sure, but we didn’t need him to figure that out. He knew nothing about why they were in Tyriu.”

“Makes sense that a common foot soldier wouldn’t know much about strategy.”

“I don’t know,” Tomford said. “Still think he should have some idea. Or at least know where all the people around here went. It’s like everyone up and disappeared south of Felix’s farm. And why did he keep talking to you like he knew you?”

Sarien shrugged. “It was a mess. He was so scared he couldn’t see straight. Kept looking at you like you were a monster.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt him, but should we have just left him there?”

“I don’t know,” Sarien said, sighing. “Like with the one from the grave. What options did we have?”

“They could send more men after us.”

Sarien half turned on his horse to look behind them, just to make sure they weren’t being followed. “Didn’t think of that.” Once again, Sarien realized that he needed to be more aware of his actions.

“Did you hear that?” Tomford asked. He grabbed his pack and reached for his gauntlets.

Sarien stopped and peered down the long winding path. It looked like the forest was coming to an end up ahead. “Yeah. What was that? An animal?” Sarien shuddered, thinking about the luisons and the kozimuz.

They slowed down. The sound came again, louder this time, but the sound of horses’ hooves drowned it out.

“I think it was a bark,” Tomford said, sitting up in his saddle.

Sarien perked up. “A dog?”

A speck showed up on the road, running toward them. It quickly grew larger.

“Daisy!” Sarien shouted.

Sarien and Tomford hopped out of their saddles and rushed toward the slobbering beast. Daisy shot through the air and landed on Sarien’s chest, knocking him to the ground. The dog then proceeded to lick him all over his face.

Sarien laughed and tried to push the dog off him while simultaneously hugging him. Daisy’s tail wagged back and forth so fast it was a wonder the dog didn’t take off into the air.

“What are you doing here?” Sarien laughed. He looked up at Tomford, who stood with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“It’s them,” Tomford said.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s Hart’s dog, isn’t it? Must be them!” Tomford raised both arms above his head, waving them wildly.

Sarien stood. The new arrivals were galloping now.

“It is them!” Tomford set off and Sarien followed.