“Hello, Narati. Can you hear me?”

“Whoa! I didn’t expect that to work this far out! Is that you, Tallinn?”

“It is. Then the rune I carved worked perfectly. You should try testing it once you reach your home, see if the connection is still good or not. Anyway, if you are calling to ask for Karkas’s condition, he is stabilizing, but he has not regained consciousness.”

“Thanks, Tallinn.”

“You are welcome.”

N’Dari stopped the mana transfer from his hand after that before giving back the brick to Narati, who promptly returned it to his satchel. They then cleaned up their camp before continuing their travel.

It had been three days since they left Endsville, during which they experienced a change in climate conditions and scenery. Gone was the desert full of death and rusting relics from ancient times, replaced with the green and pastoral land full of nature and hope. The Emerald Valley looked just as breathtaking as it was the first time, especially after the ordeals Narati and the others had been through. Suddenly, the world regained its color, even if it was predominantly green.

The color also came with the warmer reception compared to the towns dotting the Desert Wasteland. Villages and Havens had no distinction between each other, as far they could see. They greeted the travelers with smile on their faces and waves, with Narati returning them as best he could with his rodent expression. N’Dari awkwardly tried to smile, knowing that it ended up terrifying for some who had never seen a Leonian before. He decided to keep to his stoic expression instead.

The two parted ways with Tulis just when they started noticing the border between the Desert Wasteland and the Emerald Valley where the sand were slowly replaced with soil covered in grass. The Mygalean, who kept to herself up to this point while N’Dari and Narati conversed, stopped by the fork in the road before the first village. Narati was the first to notice her stopping and turned to face her. She stood by with both her own legs while her arachnid appendages were folded.

“This is where we part ways,” said Tulis short.

Narati wished this wasn’t the case. Tulis, who was as straightforward as she was, did not mince words, but that did not make Narati easier to accept that this could potentially be the last time he saw the spider person. He wanted to try and convince her to come with them, but N’Dari walked in and said, “You sure you’re going to be alright?”

“I will be like the spiders in the forest; stick with the trees,” replied Tulis. “I know my way home from here. It is as Narati said; this is rather close to home. I would like to see the town Narati co-founded, but my sisters need me.”

"Co-founded?" said Narati, embarrassed. "Ah, sada. You're giving me too much credit."

"It's a fact, is it not? You may try to be humble, but in the end, it is still the fact. Be proud with it."

"He can learn a bit about pride from a lion, that's for sure," commented N'Dari with a hearty laugh. "It's nice knowing you, spider woman. I hope this isn't our last goodbye."

Tulis clicked her mandibles. “We’ll meet again, depending on the thread of fate. Such is the way we connect our stories. I will see you one day, N’Dari. Narati. Thank you for saving me.”

“You bet,” said Narati. “See you around, Tulis!”

And so, N’Dari and Narati waved their goodbyes at the Mygalean, who returned the gesture with one of her appendages. She walked down the road she chose to go home, then immediately shot a string of spider silk onto a nearby tree before disappearing into the shadows.

“Yep,” said N’Dari. “Still creeps me out.”

“Nah, I think she’s cute,” said Narati, prompting N’Dari to turn his attention to the Fa’ar.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t discriminate.”

“And that’s good, but a Mygalean? A freaking spider?”

“And what’s wrong with that? It’s a compliment, mi tanem. It’s not like I’m asking her out.”

N’Dari let out an exasperated sigh. “You need to learn to keep your loins in check, Narati.”

Afterwards, the two continued their travel for one more day before Narati started to notice familiar landmarks near Dragon’s Rest, namely the burial site of the dragon he and his friends slayed, and where the town got its name. It currently had a simple design, but Raine was thinking of making something more respectable for a long-suffering dragon.

The thought of the slayed dragon immediately reminded Narati of the unhatched dragon egg he entrusted Aranis with. He wondered if it could ever hatch in his lifetime, noting that the elf once told him that a dragon hatched from its egg when it believed the time was right. That was not a reassuring thought, nor did it make any sense. Nevertheless, Narati took care of the egg, feeling guilty for delivering the final blow that put the dragon out of his misery.

He then prepared himself to explain what transpired to his friends, and to give them a reason why Karkas was not with him. To Narati’s surprise, he was greeted by none other than Raine. The Felinari-human twitched his feline ears when he noticed Narati walking along with a half-naked Leonian, looking very cross. This caused the Fa’ar to feel even more reluctant to tell what happened, though he must, or Raine wouldn’t hear the end of it.

With a worried tone while trying not to look Raine in the eyes, Narati said, “I-I’m home, Raine.”

“I can tell,” said Raine nonchalantly. He turned his gaze to N’Dari and said, “Who’s your friend?”

“He’s, uh…it’s a long story. We met when….”

To his surprise, Raine hugged Narati after kneeling down. The ratfolk was taken aback by this gesture, not expecting the red-haired human to do so, thinking that he was angry.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?!” exclaimed Raine. “You’re not part of Kar’s vendetta! What if you’re killed out there?!”

“I…I…..”

“You said you promised Jacq to live your life to the fullest, so why did you ever agree to fulfill his thirst for revenge?!” Raine then shook his head, and embraced Narati like a concerned father. “But I’m glad you’re safe. So glad."

Narati, overwhelmed with Raine’s concern, said, “I know. I’m sorry, mi tanem. I’m very sorry.”

Raine got off from the hug, then said, “Where’s Kar? Is he trailing behind?”

“No, he’s…I think it’s better if you speak with Tallinn. Here.”

Narati took out the communication brick and gave it to Raine. The human was confused at first, but then recognized the runes carved on one side of the brick.

“Flow your mana into this brick,” explained Narati. “It’s….”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“A Vox,” said Raine. “A crudely made Vox. Only good for two-way communication, but this symbol indicates a long-range coverage. Yeah, I still remember my runic lessons, kid. I don’t get to be a Knight for nothing. Here goes.”

Raine did not hesitate to flow his own mana into the brick. The brick’s size and weight made Raine to make an amusing remark.

“Heh. A brick Vox. Now I know why they called that artifact a ‘brick phone’.”

“Excuse me?” asked Narati.

“Ah, nothing, bud. Just amusing myself.”

The runes carved on the brick glowed and let out an echoing bell sound. For Narati, this indicated that the Vox was working, and they would hear a voice soon after. Yet, this time, it took a while. Three more echoing bells rang until a voice came out from the brick.

“Hello? Is that you, Narati?” asked Tallinn’s voice.

“Yes, it’s me,” said Narati. “I’ve reached Dragon’s Rest with N’Dari and met my friend. I think this is the right time to explain Karkas’s condition to him.”

“Wait a moment. I think we better take this in my office,” said Raine. But when he realized that everyone were dirty, including him for helping out in the farm, he changed his mind and said, “Or a tree in relative privacy would be fine.”

“I’ll go get Aranis,” said Narati. “She might want to hear about this.”

“You’ll find her in the square,” said Raine. “Appreciate it, bud.”

Narati promptly left the group and disappeared behind the wooden doors. He needed Aranis to know about Karkas, as personally, he felt responsible for not insisting on stopping his Crocodilian friend. He was not afraid of his retaliation, knowing that Karkas was also feeling responsible for what he did towards the young Fa’ar. Still, he wondered if it would be better to just leave the Croc’s vendetta to himself instead of offering to help.

Whatever happened, nothing could change it, and Narati must live through it. So did Karkas, if he ever wakes up.

***

After Aranis joined the group under a tree near the dragon’s burial mound, Raine requested an explanation from Tallinn, who promptly explained Karkas’s absence. She explained everything that transpired, with Narati and N’Dari helping to elaborate when they could while trying not to divulge on Tulis's presence. Raine was confused with the whole explanation, but not Aranis, who listened intently with a serious expression on her elven face.

“Has the Blackening affected him more than just his scales?” asked Aranis.

“I won’t be able to tell until he wakes up, but so far, the affliction only affected his scales and only parts of his mana reserves. He can still cast spells, but its property will be different from what he’s used to.”

“I see. Given what Narati has told me about his exposure, I think it’s safe to say that Karkas’s hard scales saved him from further harm. Nevertheless, it is hard to say. I myself has only understand the effects of Aether on plants and woodland animals and how to deal with it. A sapient race such as a Crocodilian is far more than a woodland animal.”

“You do not have to worry, Forest Child. We may be out of the post-war horrors, but I still remembered my trainings from the olden days.”

“Then you have my thanks, Tallinn of Gal’Doris.”

The two elves then exchanged some more words before Aranis closed the conversation. The runes stopped glowing.

“Narati,” said Aranis. Her voice was serious, different from the caring tone that she usually gave towards the Fa’ar. “Now, do you understand the price of vengeance?”

“Yes,” said Narati, feeling guilty. “I understand. I shouldn’t have egged him on. I should’ve stopped him.”

“Karkas will not stop, with or without your intervention,” said Aranis. “And from what you told me, you are in no condition to stop him. I know you are eager to help him since you assume that you understand Fa’ars. May I remind you that out there, in the desert, the Fa’ars are far more cunning than you assume. I am telling you this because frankly, you have no experience with Fa’ars. You were in a…situation that did not give you the chance to learn the layers of how this present world works. You may claim that you understand suffering and hopelessness, and I agree. However, you have no idea how crafty a Fa’ar can be in their pursuit. Of their ambition. Of their capability to sabotage. Of their…willingness to throw away what makes them Fa’ars to be a slave to the Nuremnians once more.

“Let me be straight with you, Nara. I may have tolerated Fa’ars and actively believe that you are more than just a Dark Race, but you are still sapient races, not woodland critters. You may call yourself a rat, but you are a ratfolk, and thus, you are like us in many ways. You made a choice in life that defines you, influenced by those you met. You made friends with us because you made a choice to be helpful. What if you chose to stab Raine behind his back when he freed you? Would you be here with us?”

“I would never do such a thing.”

“Because that is you, Narati. You want to help despite all your suffering. You are willing to be helped by others, without the need to swallow your pride. But then, that’s what we are, Fa’ar or not. What applies to Karkas applies to Fa’ars, too. And from the way I see it, your adversary was cunning and knew Karkas was coming.”

“You mean…if I never helped Karkas, this wouldn’t happen?”

“He’d be in this situation one way or another, but in a much worse situation.” Aranis sighed. “My point is, you may know how to talk to them. You may even gain their trust and respect. But they are not you. Fa’ar or not.”

Narati lowered his head. Aranis had always been the source of wisdom for him, and he always listened to her. She was the first person to whom Narati was able to talk about his traumatic past without even so much of a subtle implication. He was still working on letting it go. In the process of self-reflection, he reminded himself of Karkas, who was unable to let go of Asran, with grave consequences. Sooner or later, he must simply accept that his past was his past. He could not change it, but at the same time, he could not wallow in self-pity to the point of being overwhelmed by situation that triggered his psychological trauma.

Yet, it was easier said than done. At least it wasn’t someone else. Only he understood the pain he suffered.

“I’m sorry,” said Narati, regretful.

“Don’t be. What’s done is done. Now, we can only wish that Karkas is going to come back home with nothing worse than his blackened scales. I am, however, more concerned about your fight with Asran. Tallinn told me that you are incapacitated by the Aether and fell unconscious for days. How did you survive?”

“I have the same question myself. Also, I don’t understand why Asran could cast spells.”

“A Fa’ar casting spells?” asked Raine. “That’s new.”

“That’s true,” said N’Dari. “I saw it myself. But he did not resemble a Fa’ar.”

“How so?”

“I don’t recall a Fa’ar having a pair of horns and cat-like eyes,” said N’Dari. “Or was it reptilian? Whatever the case, he looks like one of those tribal effigies used to ward off evil, but exaggerated.”

“And he said something about it being our true form. I didn’t believe him,” said Narati. “He was crazed by the Aether.”

“Hmm,” said Aranis. “I suppose at this point, we have nothing more to conclude that something extraordinary happened to you and Karkas. For now, I am glad that you are safe.”

“Besides,” said Raine as he turned his attention to N’Dari. “You haven’t properly introduced us to your new lion friend. You’re not like any Felinar I’m used to, but you do look like Kiri. You’re from the Southern Plains, I gather?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Haven’t been down there all my life, bud.” Raine offered his hand. “Raine Windegarde. Mayor of this small town of ours.”

“N’Dari Abe,” said N’Dari, shaking Raine’s hand. He then realized what Raine just said. “Mayor? You?”

“I know, I know. I don’t look like some fat old chumps with monocles. Stereotype much?” said Raine with a laugh. “It’s the orange hair, isn’t it?”

“No, not that. Mayors don’t dress and work as a farmer.”

“I’m more of the ‘visit the townsfolk to know what they need’ kind of guy. I have my deputy mayor dealing with the complicated stuff. He enjoys that. And since you’re here, why don’t I give you a tour? We got plenty of spaces for a home. Or, if you’re not willing to stay, there’s plenty of room in our inn….”

Raine continued to talk to N’Dari about the town as they walked into the town, followed by Narati. He asked about N’Dari’s background in his own way of recruitment. To his amazement, N’Dari was an artificer and a blacksmith, which made him perfect for the fledgling town. In the end, Narati did fulfill one of his promises, even if it was just a coincidence.

Aranis, meanwhile, stood by the tree, pondering about what Narati and N’Dari told her about Asran’s ability to cast spells. Somehow, she remembered something from her childhood, something she had forgotten as she gracefully aged. It wasn’t important to her as it was simply stories to scare young elves back when there were considerable danger out in the world where even the trees were against them. There were mentions of monsters that her parents and elders were facing during the war. She remembered hearing about monsters created to spread diseases as agents of pestilence. “The unforgivable ones,” as they described it.

She remembered her elders telling her that the unforgivable ones were those who rejected nature and embrace the corruption. As she grew older, she assumed that they were referring to the Fa’ars due to their artificial creation and their lack of mana reserves. She rejected that notion as she had experienced true kindness among the ratfolks, even if it was a rare quality that Narati exhibited.

But what if they were referring to something else? The Nuremnians created Fa’ars, but they could be creating a dangerous weapon among them that they were decimated before Aranis was even born. A Fa’ar who could cast spells would surely be a dangerous weapon. An unstable, dangerous weapon that struck fear among the people who fought in the ancient war that permanently broke everything.

“What if it was true?” wondered Aranis. “And what would the child be if that is the case?”