Esra Greyborn

Peach snorted, shying underneath me when a flock of forest fowl flew out of the bush in front of us. I reached down to reassure her, muttering soft words to calm her before straightening in the saddle once more. It had been three days since I found Finnley and what remained of the merchant caravan I had been tasked with guarding. We buried the dead, our own at least, and left the bandits for the crows as they deserved.

We had salvaged what we could of the goods the bandits had taken, hiring horses and another wagon from town to help get it there. As soon as we did, I cut ties with the merchants and returned to look for my apprentice. I knew there was little hope now that so much time had passed that Rueln could somehow be alive, but by all the lords and gods, I prayed for a miracle.

I would have thrown my pride as a mercenary aside and cut ties with the merchants sooner if it hadn’t been for my need to care for Finnley. The boy blamed himself and needed not only time to grieve, but to heal. I didn’t dare leave him with the caravan to search. How could I when he clung to me so? The heart wasn’t in me to betray his trust like that, especially after what happened when I left him and Rueln last time. I couldn’t take him with me either, not if I searched for Rueln. I didn’t know what we would find, and if Rueln was dead, then seeing his corpse would only confirm all the blame Finnley had placed on himself.

I was forced to wait. Wait until Finnley was safe inside a village, and my duty to the caravan complete before I could allow myself to search for my apprentice. All the while, every single moment, my heart was torn apart and shredded. I foolishly believed I had left this kind of pain behind when I had to bury my husband and our son, but here it was again. The wound opened anew. Rueln wasn’t just a responsibility to me. I had him for only a few weeks, but I dearly loved that little boy. He deserved better than this.

Hands tightening on the reins, I tried to calm my turmoil of emotions coiling through me. Sensing my distress, Peach halted and pulled her head around to lip at my pant leg, nickering softly to me. “You’re a good girl, Peach,” I whispered, in thanks. I was suddenly tired of holding everything in, the weight of it all burning my eyes. My tears fell as I urged my horse on, turning off the road and into the trees. I could cry because I was alone. I could be weak here.

Peach and I returned to the bandit camp, now empty, the tents and shacks where they slept quiet. The crows had already started picking away at their bodies, the air smelling of blood and death. I noted everything as I guided Peach around the camp toward the cliffs. My plan was simple: follow the river as far as I could today until I either found a body, tracks, or the sun had set. If I hadn’t found Rueln by then, I knew I lost him.

We followed the cliff down the mountain until it I was forced to backtrack and take a safe route down to the river’s edge. Peach pulled at the bit until I gave her head and allowed her to drink while I searched both sides of the river from the saddle. There was no sign of Rueln here, just the roar of angry rapids to drown out my thoughts.

“Where are you?” I whispered, unable to even hear myself over the water. The strength of the current was strong in this area, which meant that he probably would have been pulled much further downstream. If there was a chance of finding him, then it would be miles more before I saw a trace.

Water dripping from her muzzle, Peach lifted her head, shaking her mane before she turned on her own accord and followed the river again. I let her take her time, picking her way over the rocks until her hooves found the softer mix of sand and soil. All the while, despite knowing better, I searched the ground for any tracks. Despite a few places where birds had landed to scratch for their meals, I saw nothing that could give me hope.

For hours I rode searching one side of the river. I found nothing but a few traces of wolves, deer, and wild pigs. I intentionally kept the pace slow, not daring to risk missing anything. By the time the sun had set and I set up camp, what little hope I had left had crumbled away.

I unsaddled Peach and brushed her down before offering her a few handfuls of grain that I had brought along for her hard work. She took it, then flicked her tail at me before lowering her head, greedily eating any grass within reach. I couldn’t really blame her for the attitude. I had been working her hard these last few days with hardly a moment of rest. Affectionately, I ran my hand along her side before turning away to gather firewood before it got too dark to see.

That night was a long one for me. My sleep was spotty, and more than once, my grief consumed me. I already knew what it meant that I was still out here, why I had found nothing. I knew in my heart, and it was like losing my son all over again. After promising to take care of Rueln, I failed him and his family. When I returned to town for Finnley, I would have to write to them and tell that poor man and his two remaining children that Rueln was dead.

Somehow, my emotions and the day’s search finally pulled me into a dreamless sleep before morning. When I woke, I ate a quick meal of bread and jerky before saddling Peach. At first, the mare wanted to continue as we had been on downstream, but I was the one to pull her away and start back up the mountainside. It broke something in me when she paused a few hundred yards from where we had camped to look back, neighing as if to call out for him. It was like she knew who we had been searching for. I waited with her, holding my breath, wanting an answer just as much as she seemed to. At last, we both had to admit no one was there to call back.

“Come on, girl,” I murmured, pressing my heels in against her side. Peach snorted, her only protest before obeying, starting the long road back to the village.

It was midnight when I dismounted Peach and handed her off to the stable hand. It took a moment to greet Apple, checking to make sure his wound was being treated properly. Satisfied he was being cared for, I returned to the Inn and asked for a late meal. It was cold, but it silenced my stomach. When I tried to pay, however, the barmaid shook her head.

“It’s on the house, dear. I know you’ve been out there huntin fer your boy.” She said, resting her hand above my own when I tried to lie down coin. “I can spare you a few coppers at the very least. I’m sorry fer your loss.”

Thanking her, I nodded my head, then went upstairs before a fresh wave of grief could overwhelm me. The room was quiet when I slipped inside, Finnley curled up inside his blankets on one bed. Unable to help myself, I walked over, tucking the blanket in against him when I noticed one of his feet had slipped out. He was going to be a tall one. His long legs were proof of that. The boy had a lot of growing to do yet, but I knew if he could get through this, that he would be alright.

Walking over to the small table against the far wall, I sat down and lit the lamp, burning the tip of my fingers with the match. I hissed, pulling my fingers back and dropping the match onto the wooden table. I watched as the match tip broke off, leaving black soot staining the table.

A sound behind me pulled my gaze back over to the bed. For a moment I was afraid that small sound had woken Finnley, but the child had only shifted. Relieved, I turned back to the table and brushed the broken match ruminants into my palm, then used my thumb to clear away the soot. Tossing the match into the bin, I sat down with ink and pen and stared down at the blank parchment.

What was I supposed to write? How do I tell another family their son was gone? As a mother who had been on the other side of this letter before, no words would come. No matter how much I agonized over it, I couldn’t bring myself to place pen to paper.

My vision blurred, and a tear fell to soak into the parchment, followed closely by a second. My shoulders shook as I silently wept. For a few hours, I had believed I had cried myself out during the time searching for Rueln, only to find I had only lied to myself. All I could see now was the memory of receiving that emotionless letter telling me that my entire family was dead and the price the lord of that area had set if I wanted their bodies back so I could lay them to rest.

I didn’t want to be that person who wrote those words down and sent a letter as if Rueln’s death would have no effect on my life when it had. It felt cruel, and yet here I sat, trying to figure out what I should tell them. If I wrote those words down, then I would be no better and deserve their contempt. Rueln was my responsibility and I would face that. I had to.

Setting the pen down, I stared at the small lantern for a moment before leaning down to blow out the light. Tomorrow, Finnley and I would head to the nearest portal city. I would bring the news myself. Rueln’s family deserved that much from me. It is the least I could do, though I would not ask for and did not deserve their forgiveness.

“May all the lords and gods be with you,” I whispered before I went to bed.

* * *

Ceyrus Lone

I worried I had left in too much of a hurry after the boy mentioned the bandits. I offered little in ways of an explanation, and the child was far from well. If he had told me the truth and that he was suffering from draining his mana, then he would be feeling pretty bad from it. The first time is always the worst if I had any memory of it myself. It was almost like it sucked all the life right out of you, along with your magic. Your body was just learning how to rebuild those stores of mana for your internal system. It took time, and you would feel like death until you got rest.

I could tell that Rueln would be alright though. There was a look in his eyes I couldn’t miss, a look of someone older. It wasn’t the mark of reincarnation I had seen on the boy’s arm. Memories from another life had very little to do with what had put that look in his eyes. He had seen hardship in this life and despite his age; he wasn’t afraid to meet it.

Although I wished nothing would put a look like that in a child’s eyes, I couldn’t help but think that the world might be a better place if more people had that. These days people are so caught up in memories of a past life and the status it brought them into a society that they forgot how to live the one they had.

Absently, I rubbed at my arm as I thought it over. People could reincarnate all they wanted, but it didn’t seem to help society progress much. People were too set in their ways to change. They forgot how to look forward to the future. It was a big reason I didn’t enjoy going to the city the few times a year I needed to stock up on supplies. It was more trouble than it was worth.

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I let my horse, Bosco, choose where the best place to set his feet as we climbed up the mountain trail. He had been born in these mountains and hills and it was wiser to give him his head and let him choose the safest path while I just pointed him in the right direction. He was a good natured gelding, and I never regretted buying him. Sometimes I trusted him more than I trusted myself. At least the horse was pretty good about not getting us into sticky situations. I had gotten us lost more than once in these hills when I decided I wanted to explore.

Early in our ride he halted, his head coming up to look around, though neither of us could see anything through the thick trees. His chest vibrated with a silent nicker, ears pricked forward, listening intently to something I hadn’t heard. After a minute with no change, I urged him forward again, and we continued, though I had to wonder what he had heard that had him so interested.

I guided Bosco up the mountain to a bluff I knew. I had used it before to keep an eye on this bandit's nest when they settled in the area. It was less than a day’s ride from my place if you didn’t follow the river and cut through the mountains, so of course I wanted to know what they were up to. In my younger days, I would have scared them off, forced them out, but I just didn’t have the energy anymore to do that sort of thing as long as they left me alone. I would risk it, however, when Rulen mentioned they had his people.

Dismounting, I dug around in my saddlebags for my spyglass and found myself a spot to keep a lookout. There was no smoke billowing up from the trees, so I wondered if they had up and left, but the scent of burned wood still lingered in the air, too strong for me to believe that was the case. When I looked through my spyglass, I finally found the reason.

The bandits were gone. There wasn’t a trace of human life left in that camp, bandit or captive. Bodies were already rotting in the sun, animals fighting over their carcases. That meant that someone had notified Kyor, to pull together a rescue party. The law gave little allowance for thieves and murders even during hard times. This case was obviously no different.

I at least had some news to give Rueln. His people were probably alive and after he was back on his feet, I would make sure he got back to them. I sure didn’t want to prevent him from reuniting with them as soon as possible, but I’m not all well liked in Kyor, or anywhere else. It would be better if I could send a pigeon or another messenger bird, but predators killed the last of mine this spring. I hadn’t replaced them yet.

“I’ll figure something out,” I muttered, pulling myself back onto my feet and holding my aching back as I hobbled back to my horse. Bosco was greedily eating away at the greens, trying to get every bite in before I got back to him. He was an eater at heart, and if he had any say in it, he would probably weight twice what he did now. “You’ll have your supper when we get back,” I told him as I climbed onto his back and pulled on the reins to get his head up and turn him around. Clicking my tongue, we started back down the way we had come.

It was a few hours later when dozens of small rocks rolled down in front of us had me pull Bosco to a halt. For just a moment I wondered if it was the start of a rockslide, not unheard of in the area, when I noticed Bosco quivering underneath me, his ears swiveling, trying to pinpoint a sound. My sword was in my hand and out of its scabbard just as my horse shied off the trail and stumbled to keep his footing before he bolted several dozen yards forward.

Bosco had barely saved us, his quick reflexes and awareness of the dangers of this mountain having kept us alive. It was only because Bosco and I had been in several situations, much like this one, that after we were out of immediate danger, he kept his head and came to a stop when I pulled at his reins. Turning around, my horse tossed his head, snorting in fear as we both came face to face with one legend of this mountain range.

“I haven’t seen one of you beasties in a while,” I said, smirking as I studied the thick black armored scales of the giant argonia snake. Lines of bright blue glowed along its head and down its back as it lifted the front of its body in preparation to strike again. A low hiss filled the air, and a primordial chill went up my spine that only made my smile grow. “I wish I could play with you today, but I’m a little short on time.” Re-sheathing my sword and lifted my pointer finger at the beast. “Keep still now Bosco,” I warned my horse as a miniscule ball of white light smaller than my fingernail pooled at the tip of my finger. It flickered, the heat from the tiny spell enough to steal the chill from the air and make sweat pool along my brow.

The argonia viper struck just as I released my spell. The snake’s body was thrown backwards, its tail twisting and thrashing around with enough strength to uproot trees. There was no recovering from my blow, however, not with its head gone and a third of its upper body in torn ruin. It would take probably an hour or two before the nerves stopped, sending electric signals to the muscles. It posed no more danger as long as people kept their distance.

I watched it for a few minutes, using the time to make sure Bosco was calm again and had suffered no injury from his near fall. Satisfied my horse was in good health, I mounted again and turned him to get back onto the trail. Now that I had run into an argonia, I would need to make a brief detour. There was no choice now. If there was a female up here this late in the year, then there were probably more. I didn’t see anywhere that would tempt her to nest, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a spot she had holed herself up in or even dug herself into the mountainside.

I needed to warn my neighbor.

Giaus Thatch and his wife Adaline lived to the northwest of my farm, about an hour’s ride out of my way. They were a hardy pair that had lived out this way for nearly twenty years now, one of their kids grown and married off the last I heard. The other wouldn’t be too much longer to follow. Namil was maybe fifteen or sixteen now and came down the mountain to visit a few days a month and even helped me out occasionally. They were a nice enough family, and I didn’t want to see anything happen to them. Not when an argonia could make a day’s ride for me in only a few hours. The beasts were one of the rulers of these mountains, despite how rare they were to run across.

“Cyrus!” Giaus greeted me as Bosco trotted up to their cabin. He was cutting wood, his son stacking it along the house as he finished each piece. They looked to be ahead of the winter stores. It was good to see. “I haven’t seen you all year. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” I said, pulling Bosco to a halt and leaning on the saddle horn as I spoke with him. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s the wife?”

“Why don’t you ask me yourself, you old codger,” Adaline said, stepping out of her house in the midst of wiping her hands on her apron. Considering how covered in white she was, I didn’t doubt she was in the middle of making dinner. “Are you staying for supper?”

I smiled and shook my head. “No. I wish I could, but I don’t have the time to spare tonight. My apologies.”

“Next time then,” she said, waving as she stepped back inside.

“Why did you stop by?” Giaus asked, handing his ax to his son so he could continue the chore. I didn’t miss the interest on Namil’s face.

“You’ll want to hear this too, Namil,” I said, stopping him before he could start the work.

Giaus frowned, but didn’t argue as his son came to stand at his side. “Now you’re worrying me, Cyrus. What’s going on?”

“I killed a female argonia viper just up the mountain,” I said, gesturing back the way I had come. “The females usually aren’t as aggressive as that unless they have a nest somewhere. If we’re not careful, we’ll have twenty of them running around.” Giaus had caught on to what I was getting at and nodded. “I didn’t find the nest, but I’m not where i could spend the rest of the day searching either. I’m sorry about that, but if you haven’t found it in a few days, send word and I’ll come up to help.”

“We’ll find it, don’t worry about that,” Giaus said, slapping his son’s shoulder. “Me and my boy will go up tomorrow and look around.” He paused, then tilted his head. “You said you killed the mother?”

I nodded. “Feel free to take what you want from her. She’s yours. The meat will be good for winter at the very least, though I would try to beat the animals to her if you want that.”

Giaus pointed his son to the barn. “Go on and saddle the horses. Cyrus is right.” As Namil hurried off, his father told him to catch the mules too, to help carry it all. “Are you sure you want nothing from her? You killed her. It’s your right.”

Cyrus thought for a moment before saying, “The scales if you have some room. I’ll take half and leave the rest to you and your family.”

“The meat is more than enough,” Giaus argued. “The scales would be worth a fortune.”

“Keep them,” I chuckled. “I have enough saved up to get by.”

Giaus proved how wise he was when he didn’t push any further. “Is there something else troubling you, neighbor? You haven’t even gotten off your horse. Adaline would love it if you stayed for a cup of tea. I know she likes your company.”

“I can’t, Giaus,” I repeated, shaking my head. I paused a moment before deciding to ask him about the bandit camp. He might have heard something since he lived closer to it than I did. “Do you know what happened up there around Harpy’s swoop, where those bandits had been holing up?”

“Oh, yeah. Some guards from Kyor rode by a few days ago, scouting for some that escaped. They apparently had a caravan of merchants up there and killed a good many of them,” Giaus said somberly as he shifted his feet. “I didn’t ask for all the details, but they told me to keep an eye out for trouble.”

I nodded, glad to hear my thoughts confirmed. The guard would have escorted the survivors to Kyor then. “I found a boy washed up by the river. He said he had been a part of that group. I’m sure they think he died, but I wanted to get word of him back to his people. If they went to Kyor, then I know where to look when he’s on his feet.”

“My family and I are going to head up in a few days. I can pass the word along. Does the boy have a name?”

“Rueln,” I answered, then finally dismounted. “If you’re delivering the news, I want to write a letter to take with you. Do you have some spare parchment?”

I tied Bosco to Giaus’s paddock, where he was free to flirt with a young filly. Giaus and his son were probably training and followed Giaus inside. After writing out the letter, I folded it and gave it back to him for safekeeping. Upon getting his word he would deliver it as promised, I offered the family a warm goodby and rode out again.

I arrived back at my farm earlier than I expected, taking the time to put Bosco away and give him his promised supper before I stepped through my front door. Toga was quick to greet me, circling my legs like it had been years since he had seen me. I shooed him out the door and shut it before he could cause too much of a fuss and wake Rueln, who was asleep in my chair.

“That doesn’t look comfortable,” I noted, putting my hat and sword away before I walked over and scooped the child up. It still surprised me at how light he was. For a little boy his age, he needed more meat on his bones. I noticed before when I had checked him over for injuries that he looked to have been near starving at one point not too long ago. There were signs of it. It wouldn’t hurt for me to fatten him up a bit while I had him in my care.

After tucking the child back into my bed and pulling the blankets over him, I went to start dinner. I had vegetables stored away under the floor and it a hearty soup would do well to give the boy some energy. It had been a while since I had someone to eat with. It took a few hours to prepare the soup, in which Rueln had woken up and was sitting in my chair again with the blanket pulled up around his shoulders, staring into the fire.

I had told him the news about the caravan, but I don’t think everything had quite sunk in yet, and I thought I should give him time to think it over. There was some kind of relief to the set of his shoulders, though I couldn't say he looked excited. I didn’t want to push him to tell me, though. He didn’t know me well enough to give me a second thought and with any luck he wouldn’t before I returned him to where he belonged. In either case, I would at least help him get an idea of what it meant to have magic.

“Rueln,” I said, as he lifted his head to look at me. “Time to eat.”