by Sean J Leith
Thalia gave a sly smile. “And they deserved it,” she said calmly, raising her chin. Saul leaned back, almost wanting to laugh. He didn’t think she would condone it, not that he cared.
Thalia tapped an index finger to her chin. “Fascinating,” her voice trailed off, eyeing Saul carefully.
“What’s fascinating?” Saul said in a suspicious tone.
“Nothing,” Thalia dismissed him with a wave, still giving him a side-eye. “Well, it’s good you got out of there. Although they’ve given the rest of the Neck a bad view of your people, sorry to say.” She sighed, face tightening slightly.
An air of awkwardness grew over the room as each Broken realized they relied on this new enemy for aid.
“Now, let’s get back to the point. There is war across the Plateau, whether you like it or not, and it’s over Broken. The civil force is small, but they’re gaining support quickly due to the bastard who’s leading them. They’re called the ‘Stormwardens’ after Ithaca’s self-proclaimed title the ‘Soldier of Storms.’” She winced at the mention of it.
A couple Broken attempted to interject, but Thalia raised her hand and kept talking. “I’m sure you’ve wondered why several of our buildings are damaged. The civil forces especially seek out sympathizers and happens to cross into the Neck to come for us. All of our townspeople are trained in basic combat, but we’re still just farmers and tanners. It’s only a matter of time before they return.” Her tone grew brittle.
“I fear they will move for the capital soon. Our ruler, Kovos, wishes to seek peace with the Broken, or at least wishes to extend his hand to show the wish for unity. The Blazik Lords of Feyamin are stirring, and the King wishes to unify so that war does not come from two fronts. He believes that if we do not unite, both perish.”
“If only it were that simple,” Saul said. “The dastardly Dragon commands them and teaches them to hate all others. How does this ‘Kovos’ plan to deal with him?”
“I didn’t say unify with Obelreyon,” Thalia said, slamming the table. “I said your people. Surely they don’t enjoy his rule. A storm has gathered over the spire off the south cliffs recently. It’s a sign, Kovos believes.”
Saul looked to the others, who in turn looked left and right, to each one of them.
“Spire? What spire?”
“Surely you have seen a map before?” Thalia groaned.
“Don’t insult me.” Saul pulled out his map of Kathynta. The map detailed the Vale in the northwest with the Fangs, the Torch to the northwest, the Neck of the Seven, and the Plateau to the south, with the continent of Feyamin across the southern sea. Nothing off the coast.
Thalia eyed the map closely. Her long hair spilled over the map like a hunter green river. “Huh. Interesting.” She chuckled. “Well, that’s entertaining, especially with those marks of yours.”
My marks? What about them? Saul scratched his head and raised a brow. Thalia smiled devilishly and pulled out her own map. It was similar, but with less detail of the Vale, and more on the Plateau. Many more towns and villages were highlighted, and a small, thin column emerged from the south coast of Serpentarius with three winds crashing into one another set over it.
“The Stormspire—” Saul’s voice dropped off. “What is it?”
“It’s Gadora’s monument. Many worship her in the Plateau, though I favor Yggranda. Her monument is hidden in Feyamin.”
Saul hadn’t seen a worshipper of Gadora for some time. With the markings of Broken, it was easy to discern. With Hydris and other races, it was far more difficult. He trusted Thalia’s strong words, spoken confidently and clearly.
Thalia sat back and slouched into her chair once more. “Either way, the monument is there. I know your people are a devoted bunch, but none can climb it. The storm is too dangerous.” She sighed. “But that’s beside the point. As for the civil war, those traitors kill those who don’t agree with them. They especially hunt broken. They’re a small force, but they fight like cowards.”
Cowards. More of them fighting with disgrace. It’s as Gadora told me in my dream. A storm is coming, Saul thought. Magicians are cowards too, aren’t they? How can I trust this slitherer of a woman? Saul frowned as he shifted his eyes to Thalia and back to the map.
“Regardless, you are welcome to stay here. If they enter town, I recommend you don’t engage them. They take supplies and kill those who resist. I think you can assume what they’ll do with Broken such as yourselves. We don’t provoke them because it’s simply not a good idea.”
“You just let them take advantage?” Fae growled. The other Broken were in an uproar. “You’re a bunch of damned cowards! Running and hiding, while they hunt our people?”
Thalia stopped dead. Her azure eyes darkened as if a storm loomed over the ocean within. She rose slowly without a break of eye contact. “These people are farmers and tanners, little lady.” The room grew dead silent, save for the subtle breeze beyond the window. “They haven’t trained in combat for years, like you have.” As one hand grew to a fist, it was as if her grip clenched the room itself. “We are not cowards—we are survivors.”
Fae shot up out of her chair. “I can’t stay in a city where you cowards shrink away. Some of us want to go to the capital to join with the others. It is my fate to protect the Hydris, especially those who fight with honor and with my people, not this mix with Humans. If we stay here, we’d become cowards like you—”
Thalia slammed her fist on the table, cracking the wood below, and throwing the room to a deafening silence once again. “Do not challenge me.” She bared her teeth, revealing pointed fangs readied with venom. “Unless you would like to prove who the true coward is in this room,” Thalia snarled.
“Fae, stop this now.” Saul tried to silence the others before Thalia spoke further. “We must stay together!”
Thalia raised her chin high to Fae Joran. “Your people cower under the rule of a Dragon; you are no different. At least we have some respect. I thought you would be the same.” Thalia said boldly. Her face was tight, brow furrowed. “If you do not wish to stay, you are welcome to leave.”
Fae grumbled. “So be it. I am going to the capital whether you fools like it or not. I am no coward unlike these people. Whoever wants to go, come with me. Stay with these fools if you wish.”
Saul was furious with Thalia’s insult, but petty arguments were getting them nowhere. “Stop this!” he bellowed. “You cannot recklessly go into the Plateau not knowing where to go or who to trust! We must wait!” Saul could barely believe his own words. Mirakia Othellun told him to run, to survive, and he had. He wouldn’t be as reckless as before.
Fae scoffed at his words. “Pitiful. You call yourself a Broken, and yet you speak to this tiny witch like she deserves respect from us. We followed, and now some of us are done with it. You freed us—that’s all. You have our thanks, but we don’t follow a Broken with no purpose, no destiny, and no self-respect.”
The small Hydris, Thalia, tilted a head toward the towering Fae Joran. Clearing her throat, the room stopped to listen. “Miss—Fae, was it?” the only sound to break the silence was the clack of dagger-like nails on wood.
“Fae Joran,” she snarled. “Have something wasteful to say?”
The storm born in Thalias eyes raged. Saul felt as if the walls pulled in, and like the roof and earth below shuddered with Thalia’s glare. But her ferocity lifted, the room relaxed with her demeanor, and with a calm tone, she said, “Good luck on your journey.”
Fae and several others got up and left the room. Saul heard the crash of the oak door upon the frame, grumbles and curses following after it. Saul looked around to see only eight remaining, Drof and himself included. They looked to him with wide eyes and curled-in lips. Saul wished to go after the others, but he knew there was no use. He didn’t want to keep any who refused to stay.
With a long, drawn-out sigh, Thalia’s posture relaxed, and she closed her eyes. “Well that didn’t go as well as I expected.” Thalia sighed and shoo
k her head. “Your people can be a bit—brash.”
“They’re proud. They don’t like hiding, and neither do I.”
“Understandable. However, you aren’t hiding here, you’re surviving. If you feel drawn to go, I won’t argue. The people here are aligned with the capital of the Plateau. It’s more of a diplomatic outpost to the Neck.” She leaned back again and motioned to the door. “As I mentioned, the living quarters are in there. I hope you don’t mind sleeping in the same room.” She rose from her chair and meandered to the door. “Would you like to stay?”
The rest of the Broken nodded. Saul did so curiously, as she gazed lengthily at him.
“Well, like I said, there’s a trapdoor below this table if you ever need to keep quiet. I know you aren’t fond of hiding, but it’s there if you require it. Welcome to Shi’doba,” she said with a sweet smile. Without another word, she flashed a beaming, fanged smile, and passed through the front door.
Some slept peacefully and well that night, but Saul was restless. He fought with himself over the decision to stay or go, and he sensed that the others did the same. The recurring nightmare still raged in his mind; the lightning struck him until he awoke from the pain, and his screams woke the others each time.
The group would walk through the town intermittently, as Thalia provided them with some silver for a few nights. Over that time, Saul spoke to Thalia here and there, at least when she came to check on them. She was respectful, and helpful with their needs during their stay. But he still fought with the decision. I feel as though I should go with the others. Like I should chase after them. They are in danger. Each abandoned us, yes, but who’s to say they do not deserve an ally? Saul paced back and forth in the main forum before the front door, fighting over the definitions of his people. His experience in Rhoba shook the very foundation on which he’d lived.
A powerful knock came from the door, causing him to jump. As he opened it, Thalia stood wearing a silk robe reminiscent of peaches from the vale and bearing a smug smile. The gleaming rays of sun caused her hair to glow bright green. “Saul, I would speak with you privately. Will you come with me?”
Saul glanced to the others sitting in the room, raising an eyebrow to her. “Yes, I will.” He walked out briskly, following her out the front door. “Where are we going?” Saul asked, striding up beside her.
“My home. I have a couple of things I wish to speak with you about.”
Saul didn’t inquire further. She clearly wished to wait until they arrived. She led him through the marketplace, where there were displays of various potatoes, turnips, carrots, and other earthen vegetables grown in the area. There were butchers as well, as the fields surrounding the town were cultivated for raising cattle. The dust in the air made Saul cough; the constant steps of civilians tattered the grassy streets to dust and dirt.
“Are you the city leader?” Saul asked. “I did not ask before.”
Thalia laughed. “Yes, I suppose you could say that. There are a few in town, so my presence isn’t entirely necessary. I oversee new arrivals, and relations with the other cities. Except Rhoba, because that drake kept everyone out, and—well, you know the rest,” She glanced over to him subtly, a hint of what seemed like concern in her eyes. “It must have been hard seeing that done to your people. Not the best impression of life south of the Fissure.”
Saul nodded. “It was infuriating. The fact that people could betray their own to such a degree disgusts me.” Saul remembered the smell of moist walls, rotten food, and shit. He was glad they were free, and that the traitors paid for their disgrace.
“Being part of a people means nothing,” she said plainly.
“Being a part of my people is part of my being.”
Thalia sighed, “Being part of something is important. You shouldn’t restrict yourself to just a people, or else you’ll end up like the ones you killed.”
She didn’t understand. It was different. In Saul’s society, that’s all there was: the clan, and the people.
“Before you go on a tangent about being part of your clan, and your people, and how important it is, remember this: your people are important to you because you share the same values and customs.”
Saul was so deep in thought that he almost tripped on a stone stair in front of him. He looked up to see a tall, thin wooden structure three floors high. The wood was pristine where it wasn’t broken, and the door was colored a deep, fiery orange. Saul paused as he remembered what happened to him the last time he was led into a house by a seemingly kind leader.
Thalia walked a bit up the stairs and paused. “Is something the matter?” she asked.
“This is a bit familiar to the last city I was welcomed into,” Saul said, narrowing his eyes.
Thalia let out a lengthy sigh and waved her hand dismissively. “I’m not going to give you anything to drink, and if I wanted to cast a charm on you to make you do what I want, I already would have. Satisfied?”
Saul was taken aback. She was brutally honest, and irritatingly bold. “I am not easily charmed,” he growled, clenching his fists.
She seemed unaffected by his comment, laughing heartily, “Yes, Saul, and I’m not beautiful.”
Saul tilted his head and raised a brow.
“I take it you don’t understand humor, either,” she chuckled. “Come now, I don’t bite.” She gnashed her teeth subtly, baring her sharp serpentine fangs, followed by a sarcastic side-smile. She unlocked the door with a key out of a small pocket at the side of her flowing robe, and sleekly pulled the door open.
Saul decided to follow, unsure of what to expect. While Gorum was sweet and solemn, Thalia was indeed kind, upfront, and bold. His hand still stayed on his blade’s hilt, regardless. He wouldn’t be caught unawares the second time around.
Upon entering, the building was indeed small. There was a set of bright yellow couches with a small table, and a modest kitchen with cutting boards, silver utensils, and several books scattered around the tables. Saul wondered what kinds of interesting spices and foods they had in Shi’doba and hoped that he could learn more from this land for his profession. But his survival came first.
She led him up a set of thin stairs, each step too small for his feet. He barely fit within the stairwell, forcing him to crouch and sidle. The next level of the home was lined with bookshelves filled to the brim, a small wooden chair and desk, and a larger, sky blue-cushioned chair with an intricate design of each of the elements embroidered onto it. The books were all sorts of sizes and colors, from a book the size of Saul’s hand to one the size of Thalia’s torso—which wasn’t that large. Saul could read somewhat, but not well. He understood some of the covers, but larger words escaped him. Many were about magic.
“Sit,” Thalia said, pointing to the cushioned chair. He was glad to have that one, since he would surely break the smaller desk chair. She led her forefinger along the bookcase, picking out a large red book, a small black one that was quite tattered and old, and another that was leather-bound and scratched beyond belief. She opened the leather-bound book and flipped through the pages, azure eyes rapidly scanning. “Do you have concerns with my spellcasting?” she asked.
He knew he should be more delicate, as she welcomed them to town, but he couldn’t shake his attitude. “Magic is wrought with cowardice.” Saul said bluntly. “Keeping your distance and avoiding your foes.”
She continued to gander through the book with a tightened brow. “Oh really? What about a bow and arrow?”
“It can also be. If that is all the soldier is versed in, and then he runs from a melee. It is a natural ability to fight with bow, shield and blade, axe, or mace.”
Thalia screwed her face into a frown, and then returned to a focused eye once more. “Being born with an affinity for the elements is natural. Just because one possesses the ability to use spells from a distance, doesn’t mean we don’t fight on the front lines. You shouldn’t shame the natural abilities of others simply because you don’t have them.”
“I don’t want them. I have what I need in my equipment.”
Thalia groaned and rolled her eyes. “That attitude is going to get you killed.” With a plain and strangely unsettling gaze toward Saul, she said, “What happens when someone twenty feet away statches you by the throat and chokes you to death with magical energies?”
Saul didn’t have an answer. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
Her eyes went back to the book. “That’s what I thought. Don’t be so closed-minded, and don’t shame me because of what I can do. Learn to gather friends, not enemies.”
Saul detested her words. I don’t need magic, and I never will. He crossed his arms in a huff. He hardly trusted the Hydris as a whole—having barely met any—and the stories of his past enforced this belief.
“Do you have any prophecies in your land?” Thalia asked, flipping through the tattered pages.
“Our markings decide our fate,” Saul said bluntly, tapping his foot.
“Hmm,” Thalia mumbled. “Do you trust your goddess?” she asked, examining both of his arms with her azure eyes. “Or should I say—goddesses?”
“I don’t know this second god. I trust in Gadora, yes. She came to me in a dream before I was imprisoned in Rhoba.”
“Fascinating,” she said, carefully analyzing a specific page in the scratched leather-bound book. “What did she tell you?”
“She told me a storm was coming.” Saul said. “After she left, I was struck by lightning. I dream of the same moment every night. I appear on a tower in the center of Renalia, and lightning strikes from above. I agonize until I awake. It sometimes lasts seconds, other times minutes, and sometimes longer.”
“Very fascinating.” Thalia drew out her words.
“What is?” Saul growled. “Are you going to tell me why you brought me to your home?” His voice grew harsh.
Thalia smirked and looked up from her book. “A magician trains her mind as much as a warrior trains his body. The same time is put in, and each has his or her own specialties on the battlefield. A small person with power over the elements should use it, just as a large warrior should use his brute strength.” She brought out a map, and began drawing a line up, down, and around the Plateau. “Do you feel drawn to the south? The way you spoke to that insufferable Broken told me so.”