Tanzik held the lifeless body of his sister Tahari close as he sobbed with sorrow and rage in equal measure. The alarm bells rang throughout the city. The false attack on the Khayim estate had ended, leaving the city guard in disarray. The revolutionaries would regroup and put one of theirs in charge of the city, then formally declare their independence.

But he didn’t care about any of that. His sister was dead, barely a day after he found her. Eventually, he heard the sound of footsteps rushing down the hill. He carefully laid Tahari’s body down and picked up his sword with a primal scream.

“Hold up, we’re on your side!” One of them exclaimed. He had no weapons drawn and his hands were in the air, waving in a motion of surrender. “Part of the revolution, okay?” He looked down at the ground where Alqan’s corpse lay. “Got Lord Khayim, huh? And that’s… oh gods.” He knelt down beside Tahari.

“Get away from her,” he said, his voice ragged with grief. “It was your bloody cause that killed her.”

“Cause? To the Void with cause, this was life or death. Makan can live and prosper out from under Imperial rule. She didn’t die for a cause, she died for her people.”

“You expect that to change anything?”

The man hesitated. “No, I guess not. Could give you the whole speech about how she knew what she was getting into, but it’s all tripe. Only thing I can say is she sacrificed her life to give life to others. Doesn’t change anything, doesn’t make the pain go away. But it helps the healing. A little. Not much, but we take what we can, right?”

“Just leave,” Tanzik said. In the battle between his grief and his anger, he wasn’t sure which was winning and didn’t want anyone else to be around him when he found out.

“Wish I could, soldier, but the dead need tending. Would like to bury her. You can do the honors of course. Something quiet, out of the way.”

Anger won. “Quiet?” He asked, his voice a quiet but unstable seething. He looked the man in the eyes. He was middle-aged with a permanently broken nose and a scar across his forehead. “You want to push her aside like she was nothing?”

The man shook his head and his lip twitched. “No. Not about what I want though. Too many people in this city loyal to the old guard. Imperial loyalists, stodgy elitists getting fat off Empress Ermina’s coffers. We’ll take control, but we have to disavow the rebels.”

Tanzik stood up and the man stood to meet him, hands out defensively. “Rebels. Not revolutionaries.”

“Right.”

“You know what you sound like?” He took a step forward and the man stepped back to keep pace. The other people with him stood back. “You sound like them!” He shouted the last word at the top of his lungs and pointed his finger angrily toward Alqan’s body. “Twisting and tricking, taking control and blaming someone else. You’re going to just do the exact same thing?”

“Yeah,” the man said. “You’re not wrong. Tanzik, right? Her brother? I’m Shímur. Leader of the resistance here. You see, the difference between us and the Empire is the Empire deceived us to control us.”

Tanzik swung a punch wildly. Shímur stepped back easily with a sigh and Tanzik stumbled and fell to his knees. “How is that different?” He shouted.

Shímur knelt down in front of him. “The Empire wants to control. I want to set us free. If the truth comes out that the new ruler of Makan was a barbaric rebel who organized the assassination of the last leader, it wouldn’t sit well with people. There would be another coup and the Empire would be brought in to mediate. They’d set one of their own envoys to rule in our stead.”

“But you are the rebel.”

“You’re right, but they don’t know that. I’m just a wealthy merchant with ancestors on guild counsels for the last eight generations. I distance myself from… this,” he waved his arms to indicate the carnage around him, “and I’d make a reasonable choice. I’ll be sympathetic to the Empire at first, but we’ll carefully sow mistrust of the Empire among the people until we reveal that they organized the first coup to control us. I’ll declare independence and enough people will be on my side that the dissenters will fall in line or go somewhere else.”

“You’re sick. You’re worse than the Empire.”

“No, Tanzik. No. You know that I’m not. I’ve seen your wanted posters. I’ve dug around. I’ve heard stories. I know what happened in Bandhi’s Watch. You know them at their worst.”

Tanzik sat down and slicked the hair back from his face. “Why are you even telling me this? Why should I care?”

Shímur’s face looked crestfallen. “I need you to know what your sister died for. She was more than a soldier in the revolution, she was a treasured friend. I trusted her and cared for her…” He trailed off for a moment. “And loved her. More than anyone I’ve ever known. Her death is harder on you than it will be for anyone, but it hurts me too. I need you to know why she was willing to give her life. And what she was giving it for. A future for Makan.”

“A future built on a lie. It won’t last.”

Shímur’s lip twitched again. “No. It won’t. But I’ll pay that price when the time comes. By then, the truth of the Empire will be known enough that people won’t be too upset.” Tanzik put his face in his hands. “I’ll give you a moment. When it’s time to bury Tahari, you can do the honors. No one else will touch her. You have my word. Stay as long as you need.”

“Sir,” one of the others said, “there’s a body by the tree. Alive, but injured.”

“One of them?”

“No, sir, she appears to be the archer that took half of them out.”

“Your friend?” Shímur asked Tanzik, who only nodded in response. “Get her inside the manor, find a healer to tend to her wounds. Have one ready for Tanzik too.” He stood up. “Come see us inside when you’re ready.”

As he walked away, Tanzik fell over to his side and rolled onto his back. He looked up and saw the clouds lazily drift across the pale blue sky like nothing had happened. His fists clenched.

***

As soon as she left her friends, Allena recovered the horse she bought back in Stormhall and gave a mark to the stable hand to keep quiet about seeing her. She wasn’t sure how the coup would turn out, and didn’t want to take any chances since she would have been seen with Tanzik and Lura. She used her magic to emanate a wave of disorientation to confuse the guards at the main gate to let her pass, then rode west toward Katavysia. She spent the evening and night off the road and set back out in the morning.

The roads that led to Katavysia were long, and the journey would take almost three weeks at a steady pace. Allena had no intention of keeping steady, though she kept an even pace for the first few days to wait for Tanzik and Lura to catch up.

The roads this far to the east of the Empire’s capital were not as well kept as the roads in Perandor. The Empire was still young, historically speaking, and was too busy wrangling the remaining provinces under its banner to keep up with infrastructure. Allena believed they were making a mistake expanding faster than they could keep up with, and Empress Ermina had a reputation as a ruthless conqueror who never took no for an answer, though supposedly some provinces bent the knee without conflict.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

After a few days of travel, she crossed the border from Monscal to Perandor. She crested a large hill and peered out into the distance. It was a good vantage point, and she decided to end the day’s journey early to gather food and fresh water to restock her supplies. She couldn’t slow down, and hoped that her friends were quick enough to meet her on the road soon.

***

Lura woke up to the gut-wrenching scent of medical unguents and immediately had to fight the urge to throw up. Her mind threw her back to Yudhi’s torture dungeon and her mind and body immediately went into a reactionary fighting mindset. One of the healers let out a squeal as Lura jumped off the bed and fell to the ground.

The healer began speaking Monscalan in a tone of voice that Lura could only interpret as chiding. “I’m good, it’s all good, don’t touch me please.” She pulled herself up on the bed and waved the healer away. “Ow!” She cried as the woman smacked her hand with a towel. She was ordering her to stay put, Lura assumed. Her Monscalan speech was frantic, but Lura got the idea and sat back on the bed. “Fine! Sitting! Gods above, are you happy now?”

The healer left, muttering loudly in a way that Lura interpreted as ‘no.’ She looked down at her hands and saw the bandage wound around her missing forefinger. She sighed. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to shoot. Not without a lot of practice to work around it at least. And they didn’t exactly have time for that. She could use a crossbow, but always hated the mechanism, it was never something she could get used to. Archery was something she felt throughout her body when she shot.

She wanted to kick something over in anger, but the fall from the tree had battered her body and she was sore all over. It probably was a good thing she was made to stay in bed. She was frustrated that she didn’t see the end of the fight since she passed out at the sight of her own blood. She assumed they had won since she was alive and not in prison. She took deep breaths to calm herself down, but the inhaling of the medical scents made it hard to do and she only succeeded in stressing herself out more.

She heard a knock at the door. She looked down to double check that she was decently dressed. She was dressed in thin, unflattering medical clothes, so she grabbed a blanket to cover up. “Come on in.”

Tanzik opened the door and peeked in. Seeing Lura was covered, he stepped in. “Hey,” he said flatly.

“Hey yourself.” She looked confused. “You okay?” She only saw some superficial scrapes on him, but he looked like he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

“Glad you’re awake. You were out for most of the day. Healers said you should be able to travel tomorrow.”

She noticed he didn’t answer the question and decided not to press. “Good. That woman was yelling at me in your language. Do you know what moshta means? She kept yelling it at me.”

“It’s… not a word I’m comfortable translating.”

“I can use my imagination then. So we won?”

He hesitated. “Alqan Khayim is dead. The revolutionaries are taking charge. Gonna cover the whole coup up and disavow the rebels, then slowly convert Makan to their thinking before they declare independence.”

“Devious. But probably a good idea. Most revolutions don’t last long, and the ones that succeed don’t stick.”

“I don’t care. I just hope it’s worth what it cost.”

Lura realized why he looked so peaked. His sister must have died during the fight. Nothing else would’ve affected him this way. Her heart sank. She liked Tahari’s spirit, and though she didn’t know her, she was saddened by her death. “When’s the burial?” She asked.

“Tonight. Tomorrow morning, we’ll head out and ride hard toward Katavysia. We need to catch up with Allena.”

“Well, let’s take it slow, okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said dismissively. “It’s only the first of many funerals. We don’t have time to waste.”

Lura knew he wouldn’t listen. She had seen the way grief affects people, and Tanzik’s stoic and isolationist demeanor would cause him to do something stupid. But he was a protector, and she figured she could twist his arm a little if she made it more about her. “Even if you were fine, I’m not. I’m in a lot of pain. I’ll be okay to ride, but I need some time too.”

Tanzik clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be a little selfish here. Now help me up, I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t think the healer will be happy.”

Lura grinned and waved her hand. “Ah, that moshta can get over it.”

Tanzik’s face turned bright red. “You… really shouldn’t repeat that without knowing what it means.”

She smiled slyly. “So,” she said, drawing the word out, “tell me.” He frowned and held out his hand for her. She took a hold of it as he helped her up. “Thanks. Wait outside, I need to get dressed first.”

After a moment, they made their way out of the city to a small, unassuming plot of land where Tahari was to be buried in secret. Tanzik told her everything Shímur told him as she leaned heavily against him for support.

“Seems unfair that her heroism will be left out of history,” she said.

“It won’t. Once this is done, I’m going to make sure they know. No matter what happens, I want the world to know she died a hero. It’s less than she deserves, but…”

“But it’s the best you can do,” she finished. “I know. If we’re lucky, someone topples this stupid Empire and folks like her will be hailed as the real heroes.”

“I wouldn’t use the word lucky to describe us.”

“We’ve made it out of some pretty ridiculous situations in one piece. Well, mostly,” she corrected as she held up her four-fingered hand.

Once they arrived, Shímur nodded to them. Two of the other revolutionaries stood by with shovels, and one of them handled a shovel to Tanzik. “As I said before, the honor is yours,” Shímur said solemnly.

Tanzik grabbed the shovel and looked at the ground. This would be where his sister would rest forever. An unmarked grave, miles from the city she fought and died for. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, pushing down the tears and sorrow until he was alone. And with every pile of dirt shoveled from the ground, he unearthed old memories, childhood games, inside jokes, tears comforted, time spent together. And as he laid her corpse in the ground, he buried those memories with her.

No words were shared. Shímur kept silent in respect and Tanzik didn’t have the heart to say anything other than “Goodbye, Tahari. I’ll miss you.”

That night, as he laid down in an inn, he stared up at the ceiling waiting for tears that never came. Sleep eluded him as well, and the next morning they set out from a city on the brink of chaos with only a handful of revolutionaries to keep it from tearing itself apart.

He and Lura said nothing as they rode as fast as they could toward Katavysia. Days slipped away silently until they crossed the border into Perandor. They pushed on westward, slowing only to let their horses rest and to gather needed food or water.

***

The road turned to a more southwestern direction as Allena pushed forward. She was concerned that her friends hadn’t caught up to her yet, as she was now only about a week away from the city. As much as she wanted to stop or slow down for them to catch up, she knew she needed to keep moving.

The climate was getting uncomfortably warm for her, even as autumn approached. She was used to the cold and biting winds of Serevar. Monscal was warmer than Serevar as well, but still cool enough it didn’t bother her. Perandor felt oppressively hot and humid, and in secret, she used magic to manipulate the air around her to cool off sometimes.

One morning as she packed up her camp, she heard the sound of hooves in the distance. The rhythm of steel horseshoes on the packed dirt path sounded like two horses. She smiled as her friends came into view around a tree-lined curve in the road, but her smile faded immediately as she saw their faces.

The looked broken and battered, burdened by a loss deeper than what they already shared. She approached them with concern, but Tanzik barely slowed down. “Let’s not waste daylight,” he said as he rode past her.

Allena’s heart skipped a beat as she looked to Lura, who had stopped to see her. “Lura, what happened?” Allena put a hand to her mouth as Lura dismounted and held up her hand, showing a missing shooting finger.

“Need to buy a crossbow, I guess. Hate using them but I won’t be able to shoot normally again.”

Allena finished putting her saddlebags on her horse. “What happened?”

“A glorious revolution,” she responded dryly. “Makan is free, but Tahari died. Buried in an unmarked grave outside the city to distance the new leaders from the rebels who gave them the throne.”

Without even thinking, Allena threw her arms around Lura in a hug. To both of their surprise, Lura didn’t push her away. She awkwardly returned the hug before eventually pulling back.

“I’m so sorry, Lura.”

A single tear escaped her eye as she sniffed. “Sure. I got off easy, all I lost was a finger. But thanks. We, uh, better get going. Tanzik… he’s not going to slow down.”

They mounted their horses and set off toward Katavysia. Allena knew their journey was approaching its end, and they needed to stand strong together. She could use magic to heal their physical wounds, but the emotional wounds they held wouldn’t be so easy.

Serevar was fighting a war with the Empire while the Phoenix, the world’s most ancient enemy, was trying to burn everything they had built. The key to their survival, or at least answers, might very well be in the city. But she had an uneasy feeling it wouldn’t be as easy as she hoped.

The best she could hope for was that they were all strong enough to face what was to come, and that they would face it together.