Elana's blackened corpse lay at his feet. She was still bound. Thearan ropes were fire resistant. It all felt so real; Elana standing, pulling free of the ropes, unsheathing her Kaizuun, lunging at him. As soon as the illusion dissipated, he knew Sithares had tricked him. He saw her body laying in the dirt, nothing but charred meat and bones. He saw her laughing, young and full of energy. Saw her dancing the Zuunshai on narrow branches high above the forest floor. He saw her fighting the Ermoori with her newly forged Kaizuun. He saw her sit next to him in the clearing, asking him to take control of his emotions. He saw those birds again, tearing each other apart as they fell to the darkness below.
Dakesh fell to his knees. He felt as though he was waking from a trance. Finally, he saw things clearly. The Fire Magic, the whispers of Sithares, all of it was toxic. He felt sick. He killed the woman he loved; and worse, he killed her while she was unarmed and helpless. He burned her alive while she screamed and reached to him, begging for mercy.
He closed his eyes and tried to make the memory disappear, but it was burned into his mind, repeating on a loop like a waking nightmare. He vomited on the dirt. Some of it landed on Elana's charred, outstretched hand, and he screamed in wordless rage and grief. He forced himself to look at her again. He tried to think. He felt like a stranger, alone and terrified. Kerberos would never understand; he needed to escape, get away from Kerberos. But he couldn't take her body with him, as much as he wanted to. It was too painful, and she would slow him down.
He needed to make things right. Take responsibility for his betrayal, and for Elana. Her sword and belt were undamaged. They would have to do; he could at least honour her by bringing her belongings back to Shanaken. It would mean his death, but that was better than he deserved. He needed to make things right. He snatched her Kaizuun, unclipped her belt and sprinted north without looking back.
Fireballs exploded around him as he ran. Shouts and screams followed him. For the second time, he was abandoning his people. His breath burned in his lungs. The hard dirt pounded against his feet. If he unleashed the fire within him, the run would be easier. He knew it, but he wouldn't let himself use Fire Magic again. He'd already insulted the Shenza enough; Elana was right. The Duulshen were right. He didn't deserve the Kaizuun. He was crying as he ran. He wouldn't abandon the Shenza again. He was coming home. Even though it meant his death; he was coming home.
No one pursued him. After running as long as he could, he collapsed in the soft grey sand. The silence of the desert pushed down on him. The weight of her sword in his hands pulled him deeper into the sand. The weight of her memory made it impossible to keep moving. This place, the place that had gradually become his home, felt ugly and dead. Empty.
Zanela
This is a dream, she thought, it must be. She followed Kaidan through the forest, heading towards its centre. Towards... It. She knew what it was, what it had to be, but she couldn't accept it. She had trouble accepting the forest within a mountain. All of this was so unreal to her. I must have died in the forest. I'm being lead to the afterlife by a Zuzuk. She wondered if that was their purpose now that the forest was old and there were no more Ermoori to defeat.
Kaidan remained silent as they walked. Zanela stayed silent too. She didn't know what to say. For about an hour they walked through the dim canopy. She only just saw the branch she was walking on, and Kaidan was barely a shadow in front of her. The air inside the mountain was different somehow. Her lungs filled with a strange but pleasant cold. Moisture filled the air, cool and still, almost like tiny specks of floating rain.
As they approached the centre of the forest within Dulkuud, a soft blue light grew from the leaves above their heads. It spread down, emanating from the thin lines and ridges of the tree bark. Beneath her feet, the light glowed in pulses with each step. She slowed as she drew near the massive clearing she saw earlier, and the thing waiting there. Kaidan slowed down too, until they stopped completely together at the forest's edge.
This is a dream, she thought, it must be. What did the stories say about Dulkuud? Certainly not this. The clearing formed a perfect circle. Large arched rows of short, soft grass spiralled out from the centre. No bushes or flowers grew within the circle. It was so perfect it looked unnatural to Zanela, as if it had been made instead of grown.
The thing she saw when they first arrived sat on the opposite side of the clearing. She desperately hoped it was a statue, but the heavy feeling of dread tying her stomach into knots was impossible to ignore. A terrifying sense of ancient life filled the place. She stared at the thing even as she struggled to close her eyes to it. She stared even as she feared it would move while she was looking. She tried to will herself to look away, to turn and run back into the peaceful forest. With every second that passed, her terror grew. She was paralysed, helpless before its awful, dead gaze.
It was a gargantuan snake, facing the centre of the clearing. Its head rested at the tree line, its body hidden by the trees on the other side. Dull black scales covered its giant face. Milky, faded eyes stared sightlessly. A long, thick tongue slid out of its mouth – Oh no, no no no! - and the pale eyelids slid away to reveal bright blue orbs emanating ancient power. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest. It's alive! It sees me! The bright blue eyes pierced her mind, trapping her in her own body. Every inch of her, every fibre of her being, screamed at her to run, run! But she couldn't move.
The snake raised its massive, terrible head, drawing itself closer to her. One of its fangs was as tall as she was. The lurching, frozen sickness of complete and utter terror drowned her mind into oblivion. And still it drew closer. The ground moved under her feet, and finally her gaze was pulled from the monster as instinct made her look down. The perfect rows of soft grass were shifting, tightening as the snake moved forwards. Her stomach cramped and her mouth dried instantly; the circular rows weren't made or grown. It wasn't grass at all. The snake's body took up the entire clearing. She stumbled backwards and fell, landing on her back even as she kept scrabbling away. She could feel its ancient strength under the palms of her hands as she crawled backwards over its coiled body. Its face loomed above her, filling her entire vision, and her world disappeared into blackness.
Aella
Aella's heart leapt into her throat. He's alive! That means the others might have survived!
The whole tribe knew Athan was Kerberos' protégé, and they were far less excited to see him than Aella. But Aella still knew him quite well, and she knew something was wrong. He was not here on Kerberos' behalf; that much she knew for certain just by looking at him. The others obviously were convinced he was, and she was forced to draw her swords to stop a few warriors attacking him on sight. She took his hand and sat down with him in the sand, a little way off from the rest of the tribe.
He looked at her with a blank expression that froze her blood.
"I don't know what I am any more," he said. His voice was flat.
"You mean you're not allied with Kerberos any more?" She couldn’t keep the hope from her voice.
"I- who? Do you know me?" Her mouth flew open in shock. She could think of nothing to say.
"What happened?"
Against her will, tears streamed down her face. But when she spoke, her voice was as flat as Athan's.
"Your name is Athanasius, of Theara. You and I grew up together. My name is Aella. You died attacking a small city just over two weeks ago. The leader of our last tribe, a man named Kerberos, took you as his protégé and ordered us to attack Omatus. Myself and my original tribe disagreed, and there was a battle. We have been out here ever since."
Athan's eyes were wide. He was looking out at the horizon. "I remembered the desert," he said quietly, "and fire." Aella put a hand on his arm, and he looked at her.
"That's all there is, in death. Fire. You don't get burned, but you can't see or hear or feel anything else, only the fire." Now there were tears running silently down Athan's cheeks. "I was there for what felt like an eternity. It burned away everythi
ng. I don't know what I am any more." Aella moved in close and held him. She had no idea what to say.
Finally, she let him go and sat back.
"I think we need to go back to where Kerberos was." She raised her voice so everyone could hear. "It has been four days and he hasn't come for us. I think he's moving on to Omatus already."
One of the other warriors spoke up. "What do we do once we get there? We can't beat him in battle." There were murmured agreements. Aella had already thought about this.
"Kerberos won't just be fighting us; he will be fighting the Omati army and Royal Guard too. If we get there in time, we will be able to surprise him at his flank while he is busy with his own battle."
The warriors were listening; they seemed a little more convinced. There was at least no more murmuring. She pushed on. Even if they couldn't beat him, fighting him was the right thing to do.
"Kerberos is twisting the Thearan lifestyle into something ugly and wrong. He is using Sithares' name to slaughter innocent people and take Omatus for himself. Thearans revel in combat, but what Kerberos is doing isn't combat, it's murder. We hunt and we kill and we fight, but we don't kill non-combatants. We don't slaughter entire cities. And if we were to stop living as desert nomads, the only place we should settle in is our ancient homeland, the city of our descendants, Theara."
The tribe cheered and she knew there would be no further arguments. Now she just hoped they stood a chance against Kerberos' army.
They marched south again, keeping a fast pace. They were travelling light, and their new found mission drove them harder than Aella would have believed. Athan marched along with them, keeping pace but staring at the ground in front of them blankly. She tried speaking to him while they walked, but nothing seemed to get through to him. Each hour that passed scoured another layer off her already bleeding heart. Her mother, Erasmus and Dakesh all missing, possibly dead, and her old friend miraculously brought back from death but unable to even recognise her. Eventually, after another day of trying to speak to him, her grief turned to anger. They set up camp for that night, and she walked up to him, fuming. She stared at his listless face and her anger grew into rage as she remembered his attack on Erasmus, his befriending Kerberos, and how easily he seemed to have forgotten her friendship after Erasmus joined their tribe.
She punched him in the face, and he went sprawling backwards in the sand. He looked up at her, finally dropping the stupid blank look and adopting one of shock instead. She was beyond guilt; looking down at him now, she felt only satisfaction, and the rage still boiling underneath. He stood, and she drew her swords. He glanced at her weapons, and hesitantly drew his own sword.
Suddenly she remembered something, and her rage blew out like the beginnings of a camp fire in a strong wind. She looked down at her swords, then again at Athan. She smiled, and when Athan saw her broad smile his own mouth seemed to twitch, almost in recognition. She lowered her blades and raised her voice.
"You will be Aniketos!" She shouted it, loud and clear, and then continued, "and I will be Roxane!"
Athan recoiled as if she'd thrown her swords at him, a look of shock on his face that rivalled the one he wore when she punched him off his feet. His sword dropped to the ground. He fell heavily to his knees. His eyes were wider than she'd ever seen them. He suddenly looked as young as he did back when they played this game as children.
After a long time, his eyes focused, found hers, and lit up, emanating joy and grief in equal measure.
"Aella..." he said quietly. She didn't hear it, but she saw her name on his lips and ran to him. She dropped to her knees as she reached him and threw her arms around him. They held each other close, and for the first time in years, the silence between them felt like home.
After Athan recovered a little, they talked. He more than made up for the silence of the last few days; he spoke to her about Kerberos, about the fanatics who followed him, and relayed his perspective on Erasmus' arrival and Aella's relationship with him. It felt so good to connect with Athan this way again. During their talk, Aella almost forgot her grief at losing three of the most important people to her. When it was her turn to talk, she started enthusiastically, telling him everything that happened since they stopped talking. When she reached the attack on Mara, she faltered. Athan remembered now, but he hadn't seen things from her point of view. He didn't live knowing his family and friends were most likely dead. But he supported her, and his comfort helped her talk through everything.
They spoke into the night, and neither of them noticed the morning until Natasa interrupted them to invite them hunting. They both laughed as they realised it was already time to start preparing the morning meal; they kept talking, and Natasa shook her head and left to hunt without them.
Later that day, they reached the scene of the battle between Kerberos' tribe and Aella's. The ground was scorched and dead, the camp-site either blown away by the explosion or looted and packed up by Kerberos' warriors. There were no corpses. They pressed on, towards Omatus. They followed the river, as Kerberos would have done, and soon reached Mara. It was utterly destroyed. Unlike most cities in Omas, Mara was very small and constructed mostly of wood. All that was left of it were the very few buildings and structures made of stone; a small gathering place in the city's centre, the dwelling of the city's leader, and a large storehouse. Everything else was ash. They pressed on again; they couldn't even use the ground to camp on.
Past Mara, about a day's walk, was Dymea. It was a giant farm settlement, larger than the farmland surrounding Omatus. Aella had only seen it a few times before, but she always remembered how vibrantly green it was, how it felt alive and somehow youthful. Living in the desert, it was easy to forget how beautiful the place could be. Now, however, Dymea looked more like the Omasi deserts than the rich green farmland Aella used to try so hard to remember.
It was silent, dead, and empty. Ash carpeted the scorched ground, almost the same colour as the grey desert. What usually looked to her like home now looked like death and danger.
Aella's tribe kept marching. Every burned trace Kerberos left behind steeled their resolve. The desolation of Dymea looked recent to Aella; they were catching up. She urged her tribe on, but they didn't need much motivation. Now that evidence of Kerberos' slaughter was laid before them, they knew he needed to be stopped.
Less than a day's walk past Dymea, they caught sight of Kerberos' army in the distance. Aella couldn't believe they caught up to him before Omatus; perhaps her plan would work after all.
Athanasius
They travelled south again, back toward where he had awoken. His mind was untethered, wandering and lost. There were no memories to think back on, nothing but the endless fires that consumed him in death. Trying to keep his mind off that roaring, mindless chaos was almost impossible with nothing else to think about. Aella tried to talk to him while they walked, but he couldn't focus enough to hear her words. Within the flames overtaking his mind, flashes of random images faded in and out, never becoming clear enough for him to make sense of them.
The most vivid images were battles, but they appeared and disappeared so fast they were meaningless. Aella's face appeared briefly, but much younger. A giant bald man with a terrifying chain weapon appeared, attacking him and shouting that he needed to move faster if he wanted to survive; was this Kerberos? Was it even a memory?
The desert passed them by, and gradually the mountains in the distance grew closer. He still didn't recognise them.
"You will be Aniketos!" She shouted it, loud and clear, and then continued, "and I will be Roxane!"
The desert fell away from his feet, the blue of the sky flashed to white, and suddenly he was flung through an endless ocean of memories. Aella, standing just as she had been; a sword in each hand, confident and vibrant and much younger. Kerberos, huge and deadly and gentle and loving; teaching him and testing him. Hunting, sparring, walking through the desert. The Fire Festival. Chaos and love and fear and fire; it all hit him at once.
"Aella..." he said. She ran to him, and held him, and he'd never felt so relieved in all his life.
Shortly after his memories returned, they reached the camp-site where the tribe waited while Kerberos' small group attacked Mara. His mind still felt fractured, and the ruined remains of the camp confused him more. Aella had told him of the battle, but seeing this much destruction at the last place he'd been with his tribe seemed to push his mind a little further away from his grasp. The images he saw of the battle at Mara started changing, bleeding into the scene before him so that it felt as though he was present at the battle. He saw Kerberos and Aella, and fire everywhere.
He remembered what really happened, but his mind seemed to be forcing new memories to appear; they fought in his head, and flashes of light and sound assaulted him. Sometimes Kerberos was gentle, tender and loving; sometimes he was violent and brutal and terrifying. Aella switched from smiling and giggling and sparring to screaming and killing and burning.
All of his memories changed constantly, and it was all he could do to hold on to the true events. They slipped and moved, never clear and never certain.
Sometime later, they came across vast fields of scorched farmland. He remembered Kerberos' plans; destroy everything along the path to Omatus, and burn the great city to the ground. The horror of it struck him as he stared at the ashes of what used to be the largest section of green, fertile land in all of Omatus. He tried to remember his reaction at the time Kerberos told him; it seemed such a good idea then, and he agreed whole heartedly with his leader.
Gods and Heroes- Rise of Fire Page 25