Tides of Fate

by Sean J Leith

  Vesper raised a brow. “Pardon?”

  “I’m running,” Kayden admitted. She hadn’t truly said it to herself, yet. “I ran from the Guild of Shades in Zenato. I ran after I was imprisoned in Orinas. I’m running so I can’t be caught.” Kayden rubbed her knees, and looked up to the cloudy sky. Water dripped all around them from the trees still drenched from the rain. She tried to ignore her feelings, her fears, but with seeing Callidan again, it flared into fruition once more. “I’m afraid.” If the Guild found her, she could be killed, or worse, she’d be brought straight to Sheeran. He was the one who scared her the most. For years she was used, in the name of ‘love.’ She never wanted to return.

  “You are skilled at hiding it. I am quite awful with it,” Vesper said sullenly. “I am no stranger to fear. It must have been difficult for you. Very difficult.”

  “It was. I’m surprised I’m even alive. I should have died so many times—it’s a mystery to me.” Healing magic. Sheeran kept me alive. But everything else I was died.

  “I am glad you are here, Miss Ralta. You remind me of my escape, the circus—the first time I was truly happy in a long time.”

  His daughter. “The circus was an escape?” Kayden asked.

  “It was fun.” He seemed to let out a weak chuckle before continuing. “People appreciated my skills, and I could make people smile, laugh, and escape from their lives, for at least a moment. I joined with my wife and daughter, as I mentioned, ten years ago.”

  Kayden chose a different path. When she ran, she didn’t make people happy. She made them suffer. “You did something good. But why did you run?”

  “The war against the Broken hordes. The late King Bracchus’ Generals wanted me to fight for them; I was Lord Chora’s ‘star pupil.’ He was an elderly man then and could hardly fight in battle. He ushered me to do it, but I refused. I ran. The war was still won. Lord Chora died a few years past, I hear. I hadn’t spoken to him since I ran.” Vesper rubbed his face. “He must have been so disappointed.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with running.” Kayden heard of Lord Chora before. He was the Lord of the Magister’s Tower in Orinas, the head Magi. Vesper’s words were reminiscent of her own. She rubbed her arms, barely spitting the past out; she hadn’t talked about her past with anyone other than with Lira. “I ran because I was being used by the leader of the Guild. I was sent on missions time and again, and many times others lied to get me punished. ‘She steered the ship into the docks and lost everything,’ they would say. ‘She killed the traitor before we could find out where he hid the money.’ They were all lies to get to me. I was his best, in his eyes, but even the best would be sent for torture, isolation, or worse. I couldn’t leave, else I would be killed. All I could do was survive. I had to survive. I don’t know why, but something in me didn’t let them win.”

  “The Fighter,” Vesper nodded. “Admirable.”

  Kayden tilted her head to the side. “The Fighter?”

  “My master once told me that there are three people in all of us. The Lover, the Fighter, and the Leader. The Lover does what they wish. They search for love, they run from their responsibility, or they simply engage in a hobby. They act without taking into account the needs of others. When I ran from my responsibility, I was the Lover. I loved my wife, I loved my daughter, and I was afraid of death.”

  Vesper took a deep breath, and continued with a poignant wag of his finger. “When you survived in the East, my dear, you were the Fighter. You did what you must to survive. Men eat bugs in the wild, they kill friends to save a hundred, or simply endure horror so they can live on. To serve justice at a later time.”

  “Finally, there is the Leader. They do all they can in their power to protect others. They act without regard for their own needs. They sacrifice. Sir Mirado sacrifices his sleep and his own personal needs so that his soldiers are safe. He abandoned the military, sacrificing his rank and his life for the innocent of the realm. At times, there is a moment in someone’s life when they must choose between what they love and what they must do. It is one of the most difficult things in life. Choosing many lives over the life of someone important to them. Choosing duty over love. Choosing to kill rather than maintain life.”

  After a brief pause, he said, “The lover plays and enjoys, the fighter survives, and the leader sacrifices,” he finished. “Which do you think you are?”

  I don’t know who I am, anymore. “I don’t know,” Kayden said.

  He pointed a finger to the sky and swished it in a circle. “The happiest individual has a balance of all three. One who sacrifices all cannot truly be happy. One who only does what they can to survive isn’t either. The lover is simply not a good person, as they never care for others.”

  Kayden glanced back to the others in the distance, wondering what balances they had. She suspected Domika was the lover, Lira was the leader despite her lack of confidence, and Mags was the fighter. With that, none of them would be happy. She felt it. What does that make me? Kayden stared to the grey sky above, feeling that’s what her life was: shades of grey in a sea of morality. She stole, she lied, and she killed—even when she didn’t need to. Good people didn’t do those things.

  She was running; that much was true. Maybe she wanted to redeem herself, too. “You still haven’t told me why you never told us about your past.”

  “I learned at the School of the Magi, yes, and I have a high ceiling of power, but I don’t want to use it. I’ve hurt people. I can’t have that happen again. I won’t let it happen again. I also do not want people taking advantage of what I can do.” Shaking his head nervously, he looked into Kayden’s eyes with his buggy ones. “I am quite afraid of it. It is like a reason similar to why you haven’t told anyone about yours.” With a quick number of nods, he drew his eyes toward the sky. “I am afraid of my past catching up with me.”

  Kayden nodded. “Part of me never wants to think about my past ever again. But it keeps coming back.”

  “It can be impossible to run from the past forever, Miss Ralta. I have run for some time, but it is not easy. When the past returns, it is your allies who pick you back up. My family was always there for me. It is too late for me—but you are still young.”

  Kayden remembered the night she stood with a dagger to her neck in Deurbin. Somehow Lira found her there. Kayden came so close to slicing across her neck to finally escape her past. But Lira brought her back. Looking back through the forest clearing, she saw Lira in the distance playing a game with Mags, clapping in a particular pattern, giggling as he couldn’t quite get it. Innocence.

  “Running is difficult. We’ve both been runners, Miss Ralta. You have lost much, but here, things are different for all of us. You fit well here. You’ve done well keeping an eye over us. Some of us need the comfort of another to watch over our safety. It helps me feel at ease—I haven’t felt at ease for far too long.” He seemed to smile weakly, as if to mask a sea of sorrows. He glanced back to Lira, still laughing at Mags’ innocent look. “The strength of our allies is what keeps us standing.” Placing a hand on Kayden’s knee, he nodded once more. “I think it is best to end our lesson for today. I believe we would both like to end on a celebratory note, do you agree?” Vesper picked up his pack.

  “Hey, wait,” Kayden said, grabbing his arm before he could walk off. “Thanks for teaching me. It’s been awhile since anyone’s taught me something without wanting more in return.”

  Vesper nodded. “It is my pleasure, Miss Ralta. I shouldn’t say it was not without benefit to me—it has been long time since I’ve been able to teach anyone something and have them appreciate me for it. There is so much more I could teach you, if you would have me.” He started walking toward where the others were camped.

  “I’d like that, actually. I’m enjoying it—though I could do without the hopping.” Kayden walked close to him. Vesper always had such a peculiar, whimsical walk. He hadn’t stammered much lately, which was strange. Maybe he was feeling less anxious.

&nb
sp; He shrugged and a sly smile perked at the corners of his cracked lips. “If you do not wish to hop and dance, then you must end the spell on your own abilities. Come, we will need our rest if we are to return to Sir Mirado soon.”

  Returning.

  It felt like a bad idea. A waste of time. She knew Lira grew far more anxious since they discovered the prisoners were sent to Solmarsh. Kayden worried about the time it would take to even get there. They were days from Wolf Camp, and it could have been days, or even weeks until Jirah would even arrive. He had so many other camps that the others didn’t know about, and it was terribly inefficient. Wouldn’t he just send us to Solmarsh after anyways? Then again, he told us to return to report.

  As they meandered closer to the camp, Kayden could hear the swishing winds, the dripping of water on the dirt, and a tense, fiery argument between the others.

  Down at the camp, the game ended. Instead, a war of words erupted in its place. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lira. That’s disobeying a direct order!” she heard Domika say.

  “But it could be weeks before we get there. We have to act now!” Lira shot back.

  Kayden ran faster, her boots squishing on the mud. Vesper followed, but he wasn’t a fast runner.

  “I do not believe that is the best choice. Sir Mirado gave us a direct order,” Mags said.

  “I know, but this is serious. Things are getting worse, and who knows how many people have been sent there, let alone where they’re being kept. We don’t have time to tell Jirah what we’re doing,” Lira pleaded.

  As Kayden entered the clearing, all three of the others stood beside the dwindling fire, leaning into their stances with intense glares. “What’s going on here?” Kayden commanded.

  Domika flicked a judging hand toward Lira. “She wants to go home and disobey orders. My brother told us to come back. He might have a better idea of what to do. We shouldn’t go in blind.”

  Spreading her arms, Lira scoffed at her words. “We’re going together. I know Solmarsh better than the rest of you. If something nefarious is going on in secret, sending more soldiers in will just make things worse. Kayden, you can’t tell me I’m not in the right,” Lira said strongly.

  With a huff, Domika crossed her arms. “I know your brother is part of it, but that doesn’t mean we should rush in.”

  Lira shot forward. “Don’t tell me I shouldn’t go! This isn’t about just my brother, it’s about so many others! If we go, we can do so much more. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, then you can go with Magnus to inform your brother, and I’ll go alone to find mine,” Lira said sternly. The fire flickered so brightly in her dark eyes that it almost seemed like the flame was real, burning within.

  Kayden hadn’t seen such intense eyes on Lira before. Her anxiety over her brother’s life was getting to her, and she wouldn’t back down. Kayden rubbed her forehead and let out a sigh. “Okay, everyone be quiet. I can’t think with everyone yammering.” In the silence, she could finally work things out. The unpredictability of Jirah’s presence was a problem—she was already concerned about that. Callidan said ‘it’ was nearly finished, and that put a rush on their arrival. Disobeying orders wasn’t Kayden’s first choice, but it was the best choice.

  They had to act. Lira was right.

  “Callidan said whatever is being done, is finishing soon. We don’t have time to go back. We can’t force Lira to do anything. She’s going, and I’m going with her. Domika, you go back to camp and inform Jirah.”

  “I’m not letting you go without me,” Domika said boldly. She let out a long sigh and shrugged. “You’re right. If it’s finishing soon, you may need all the help you can get.”

  “I won’t let you go alone,” Mags said as well.

  Kayden looked back at Vesper, who returned a confident nod. “Fine, it’s decided then. We’re disobeying orders. We head toward Solmarsh at dawn.” Kayden walked to her things and rummaged though to ensure everything was there. Jirah was so adamant on having us return, but why? That doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going.

  Kayden felt a light tap on her shoulder. When she turned, Lira was crouched behind her.

  “Thanks. They ganged up a little,” Lira said quietly.

  Kayden patted Lira’s shoulder and nodded with a proud smile. “You stood your ground. Don’t worry. We’re going to find him. I promise.” I just hope we aren’t too late.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The Temple of Titan’s Rock

  Zaedor Nethilus

  It had been ten days since their departure from Zenato. It was a quick, straight route to Titan’s Rock. Zaedor sat on the cart since they left, not having much time to move around. His back ached and his legs grew stiff and were in need of movement. The merchant moved his caravan quickly, traveling for almost all daylight hours. They passed through the desert for days, mostly barren wastes, rather than dunes. Thank the gods, if they even listen, Zaedor thought. If there were dunes, crossing would take twice as long, if that.

  Zaedor spent his time listening to his gleeful comrade, whether he liked it or not. Nargosh talked for hours on end in his whimsical voice about all the places he’d been, to anyone who would listen.

  Grom Kanda, the Terran who owned the caravan, listened sometimes, but sat on the front of the cart and tuned them out for the majority of the time. Terrans were a curious bunch: they were bland in their voice, and had brown to grey or white rock-like skin that moved as little as the mountains.

  Zaedor listened to Nargosh carefully, as he knew he had a lot to learn. His universe was Amirion, and without it, he only had the mysterious outside world now. He still resented the deserts, though. It was possibly the dry heat he disliked, or the fact that he was kidnapped there. Damn brigands. The west was said to be filled with lush forests and marshes, which Zaedor never saw. It was home to a mixed people, with many races and personalities. Last time Nargosh was there, the late king Bracchus still ruled the land, before it was split into three.

  He worried things may have changed now, more than he would have preferred. He told of the beautiful Lilac Lake, a massive fount of water in the middle of the region, north of which was the burned forest of the Treants, which has slowly re-grown since the war against the brute, savage Broken ten years ago. Zaedor did not know much of the war with the Broken; he only heard stories of their chaotic, conflictive nature, and their defeat.

  The new nation of Orinas was the most appealing to Zaedor. They were an orderly society, with an emphasis on military training. Pristine, stone streets lined the capital, filled with people, and banners flying on all the houses. Freya, Kindro, and Rodrick were there, as well. He hoped he could see them again. He knew the town they went to, northeast of the capital, in the mountains. However, Zaedor had a mission to complete first.

  “Mr. Zaedor, might I ask why you wish to go to Solmarsh?”

  Zaedor was taken aback, as he realized he never mentioned it. “I believe there is something there I can do to help people. Something connected to what happened in Amirion.” A shiver shot down his spine. I still can’t believe it’s all gone. He curled his legs in close. He worried that he was one of the few of his people left, with no people to call his own. I promised I would fight for justice, not a people. But I can’t just forget about my home.

  “Oh my. I hope you are right, old bean. It is quite the journey for a hunch!”

  “I have no home, Nargosh, I am but a nomad, now.”

  “Ah, it is best not to think that way. I may not live anywhere in particular, either, but I find home in every friend I meet.” Nargosh may have been a bit odd, but his words were wise. Through rugged, rotted teeth came sweet words that gave him restitution.

  Yet Zaedor was alone. He still felt his death was waiting for him—a mission a god of evil did not finish. Lilanda, Lothel, and so many more were gone. “I don’t have any friends.”

  Nargosh gave him a swift slap on the shoulder. “Nonsense, old bean! You have me!” Nargosh guffawed loudly, followed by a
rough cough. “Ahem, excuse me. Don’t forget those three nice people that we parted with. Just because they are far away, doesn’t mean they are not friends, my boy! We have a new destination in the west, and many more people to see!” He was undeniably optimistic, and Zaedor supposed he needed it. He wondered how many years Nargosh had under his belt.

  Despite his own many years, Zaedor was isolated for so long. At the age of thirty, he finally left his home to explore the world, and not on his own terms. “How old are you, Nargosh?” Zaedor asked.

  “Oh, old enough, my friend. I’d rather not say and be a target of laughter! I’m younger than I look. It must be the sand aging me,” he said, chuckling. “Age is but a number. Everyone grows at different rates, and explores at different ages. I’ve been seeing the world as long as my old noggin can remember!”

  Zaedor understood and left it alone. The old man was possibly sixty years of age, but maybe he was fifty, considering what he said. Though in Amirion, he did learn that good nutrition kept one looking better longer when he was young, and Nargosh didn’t live a fabulous life, it seemed.

  It had been a couple of days since Zaedor paid attention to where they were. The sands receded, and they came into short, sparse grassland, leading up to a massive grey rock formation—the largest he ever saw. Titan’s Rock covered the sky in their direction. He knew the bonebound gate was the most direct route, so this concerned him. “Which route are we taking?”

  “Ah, worry not, my boy. We aren’t going to the gate—we’re taking another route.” He leaned in close and whispered in a devious tone. “Can you keep a secret?”

  A secret? What secret? Zaedor grew suspicious. He didn’t like information being withheld from him. “I suppose I can. Although, I am a tad weary of mountains—”