They spent the night in Gis̆-Izum and loaded up on provisions before heading out of the city. From Gis̆-Izum, the next settlement of any size was Hargish, nearly three weeks away.
From the gossip they’d picked up in the market, Tsia’s father had begun the process of rebuilding the city, but it was unclear whether they’d be able to purchase more provisions there or not. Thus, in addition to more savory provisions, they also bought a considerable quantity of hard tack, jerky, and plain oatmeal that Jasper hoped they wouldn’t actually be forced to choke down before departing from the city.
For the first five days, they passed through the many villages, hamlets, and minor farmsteads that dotted the countryside around Gis̆-Izum. Spring had finally arrived, and though the night air was still quite cool, the daytime rose to a pleasant 60 nearly every day. Better yet, all but one of the nights they found a tavern in which to crash, avoiding the unpleasantness of spending a night in the dirt with a lackluster meal.
Their luck changed, though, when they began their descent from the elevated plateau on which Gis̆-Izum sat into the jungles waiting below.
Like many of the southern provinces, Sapīya had been devastated by the Fey Wars, particularly in its eastern half. The population of Gis̆-Izum had been preserved by the Sanctum, allowing it to survive largely unscathed, and its geographical location at the gateway between the Djinn kingdom and the rest of the Empire had allowed it to prosper, but the rest of the eastern half of the province had never recovered.
Hargish, which was closer to the capital of the province than to Gis̆-Izum, had been the only other settlement of any size. The rest of the eastern half of Sapīya was largely unsettled wilderness. Only the roads remained, maintained by the regular marching of the empire’s troops, and a myriad of ruins long since swallowed up by the jungle.
The only signs of habitation for the next two weeks were a handful of small army outposts, but they were not permitted to spend the night there. Instead, they camped along the roadside, occasionally joining forces with merchants or small troops of soldiers, but most frequently by themselves.
Only when three weeks had passed did they reach the outskirts of Hargish. Jasper had a sour pit in his stomach as they approached the fallen city. There were too many memories there and few of them were pleasant – from being kicked out by the guild to inadvertently having played a role in the city’s eventual destruction.
Though it had been nearly a year since the undead queen had ransacked the settlement, the signs of devastation were still abundant. At least half of the fertile fields that had previously encircled the old city now lay fallow and overgrown, and many of the former hamlets had been reduced to burnt husks.
Signs of restoration were visible in the city itself, though. The former walls, which Jasper remembered as being rather short and unimpressive, had been reduced to rubble by the undead swarm. Yet, in just a few short months, a large portion of the city was once again enclosed by a solid stone curtain that was nearly three times as high as its predecessor.
A more sobering reminder of the rebuild, though, was the massive earthen mound that crouched outside the city gates. A mass grave for the many who had fallen, the Sapīyan army was already hard at work constructing a temple at its summit to honor the dead, but its sheer size was a horrifying reminder of how many had died.
In truth, Jasper would have preferred to avoid the city altogether, but if Gis̆-Izum had been the place Tsia considered home, then Hargish, for all its flaws, was Ihra’s.
“You sure you want to spend the night there?” he asked Ihra one more time. “The food hasn’t been that awful, and we’ve got plenty to spare. And,hell, if you want, I’ll do the cooking tonight, even if it isn’t my turn on the rotation.”
After their conversation around the campfire, Jasper had made good on his promise to cook for them, and while he was not quite as skilled over a bonfire as he was in a modern kitchen, he had proven himself to be the best of the four at cooking. His stuff wasn’t quite good, but it was decidedly edible.
“I’m sure.”
In the aftermath of Hargish’s destruction, Jasper remembered how obsessed Ihra had been with searching for the survivors, hoping against hope to find her sister-in-law and her niblings alive. She’d found no signs of them, dead or alive, and eventually had been forced to stop, but he knew she’d always nurtured a faint hope that they had survived. “Are you sure you want to know?” he asked. “You might not like the answer you find…"
Ihra gnawed on her lower lip unhappily but nodded her head. “I have to know. If I don’t look, it will eat at me forever.”
“Then it sounds like we’re stopping in Hargish,” he agreed.
While the city's hinterlands had barely begun their recovery, Hargish itself was once again bustling. It seemed that in addition to the city’s surviving population, the king had sent a large contingent of soldiers and settlers to repopulate the settlement.
Things were not quite back to normal yet, though. After passing through the gates, Jasper found himself in the formerly bustling marketplace. A handful of stalls still displayed merchandise for sale, but few buyers were browsing their wares. Instead, the vast majority of citizens were lined up at two stalls operated by soldiers – one offering food and the other provisions, courtesy of the king.
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There was little point in browsing the empty marketplace, so they headed for an inn. It proved an easy search, as one of the old taverns overlooking the market had survived the queen’s rampage. After stashing their goods in the tavern and their mounts in the stable, Jasper turned to Ihra. “So where are we headed?”
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Ihra had thought she was past the deaths of her niece and nephew. She would always feel a touch of melancholic sadness when she thought of them, but those thoughts rarely came to her any longer, and she truly believed she had moved past them.
All it took was her first glimpse of the walls of Hargish to realize she’d been lying to herself. Hargish was the site of most of her worst memories, but it was also the site of most of her best – at least of those that didn’t include Jasper. Memories of picnicking with her parents, of roughhousing with her brother, of her first, surreptitious kiss. But worst of all, when she saw the city being rebuilt, was the wild flush of hope that swelled up in her heart at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they could have survived. She knew it was probably nonsense; she’d worn herself to the bone searching for them, but hope could not be so easily denied.
After a moment’s consideration, she finally replied. “Do you mind if I go by myself? I just…if I find what I think I’ll find, I’d rather be alone.”
Understanding flooded Jasper’s face, and he nodded pertly. “No problem. If you want me, just let me know. Otherwise-” after a moment’s hesitation, he continued, “maybe I’ll pay a visit to the guild.”
She cocked her head in surprise. “Are you sure that’s wise after the way things ended?”
His eyes tightened with anger. “The guild master tried to have us killed, Ihra. At the time, I was glad to have just dodged a bullet, but now?” For a brief second, he let a flicker of flame run down his fingers, “Now I’m pretty sure we’re stronger than he was. I don’t know if he survived the attack or not, but if he did, I’d like to have a little chat.”
Ihra understood his anger, but this town, for all its flaws, was her home. Or at least, it used to be. “Talk to him if you want, but don’t kill him unless you have to. The guild may have screwed us over, but they do a lot of good work and, right now, the city needs them,” she beseeched him.
His eyes lightened, and he flashed her a quick smile. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of murder-hobo but if it makes you feel better, I promise I have no intention of burning the guild to the ground or anything like that.”
It did make her feel better and she nodded her head in thanks, before heading out to see if the remains of her family had ever been found. Before the attack, she would have headed toward the northern quarter, where the city’s administrative complex had been built around the manor of the city’s lord, Lady Maratānu, but she knew that the entire area had been reduced to rubble. So, instead, she stopped by the stalls the soldiers were operating in the marketplace and, choosing the one with the shortest line, waited for her turn.
It was already midday and most of the city’s residents had taken shelter from the worst of the heat, so the line was not very long. As she reached the table, the bored soldier barely glanced up before holding his hand. “Citizen token?”
“I don’t have one-” she started to say, and he cut off her brusquely.
“If you don’t have one, lady, then you don’t qualify for the handouts. Try one of the merchants over there; they’ll have something to sell you.”
“I just have a few questions,” she replied, ignoring him. “I had a family who lived here when the city was attacked, and I haven’t heard from them since. I was hoping there was some sort of list of survivors or-” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
An angry scowl had begun to slip over the man’s face when she ignored him, but he softened as she continued speaking. “I’m sorry to hear that, miss. You from here originally?” She nodded mutely, and he continued. “Then in that case you’ll be wanting to talk to Mage Ilbārût. Most days you can find him out at the mound, working with the priests.”
“Thank you,” she said, bowing her head, but he waved her off. “No need to thank me, miss. I hope they’re not on that list.”
She hoped so too, but she didn’t really believe it. The swirling ball of anxiety produced real pain in her stomach as she headed out the gates. The mound the soldiers had built to bury the dead and memorialize their loss was taller than the city walls, and about half of a temple was already being constructed at its peak.
It was a fitting tribute to the dead, but that brought her little comfort – for it was better to be alive than to be memorialized. She hesitated on the first step, her skin crawling as she was unable to shake a vision of the countless bodies lying beneath her feet.
Given the time of day, it was no surprise that she was only one trudging up the stairs and the builders, sheltered beneath the shade of giant canvases, paused in their work to watch as she approached.
But Ihra only had eyes for one man – a tall man in a dark blue tunic who was talking to a handful of priests. He had his back to her, so she circled round until she caught his eye, and bowed her respectfully. “Are you Lord Ilbārût?”
The man paused in his speaking, and looking over the shoulders of the shorter priests, fixed his eye on her. “Not a lord,” he grumbled, “just a mage. Can I help you with something?”
“The soldiers in the town said you could help me. I had family here before the attack and…”
“You don’t know if they’re dead or alive,” the mage finished for her. “Fine,” he said with a sigh, “Let’s take a look.” Leaving the priests to their work, he led her over to a desk where a large book lay open and shot her an expectant look. “Names?”
“Takāmu. Sēlenāt, Sēldannu, and Ihra.” He flipped to the back of the book, and his finger ran across the pages. “Don’t see them here,” he said with a grunt, closing the book, “not that that means much. I’ve been out here for the last three weeks, sifting through the remains every day, but there are so many that remain unidentified.”
“Is there any way to check if they’re…here?” she asked haltingly, chewing on her lip to prevent the tears that threatened to spill out.
The man started to shake his head, but when he saw her face, he heaved a heavy sigh. “Kevas̆. Fine, give me a drop of your blood and I can cast a spell to see if anyone matching it is buried here.”
She was moving before he finished the sentence, and held out a newly dripping arm to him. He accepted it with a grimace of distaste, scooping a few drops into a bowl he retrieved from his bag and set the table. “Alright, give me a few minutes and you’ll have your answer.”