Tides of Fate

by Sean J Leith

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “It is all right. My mother died fighting for her people, and my father died for what he believed in. They died well,” Saul sighed. He told me to choose my own fate. Just like him. “I could only hope to do the same.”

  “Dying can be honorable, but remember, there are always some you leave behind.” She gave his hand a light squeeze. “There is honor in living to fight again. If I could die and save ten, or live and save a hundred, I’d save the hundred.”

  I think that’s what they tried to teach me. My father, Warmaster Othellun, and Highwind. “That’s why I’m here. The night I fled, the Dragon searched for me, calling me, ‘the heathen.’ With the help of another, I escaped, rather than fought. I hated myself for it then. Perhaps it was the right choice,” Saul smiled subtly. “Perhaps it helped me maintain my honor.”

  Thalia jumped back. “Oh, a smile. I think I do see a soft side.”

  Saul growled and glared at her.

  Thalia sighed. “I apologize. Sometimes I can’t help it. It’s another reason I’ve chased off so many so-called suitors. They see a disrespectful Hydris, not a funny one.”

  Saul didn’t mind it. She didn’t take herself too seriously, unless she had to. She was bold enough to make the jokes, which said enough. He did find them funny once in awhile, but he wouldn’t dare admit that.

  “What was your mother like?” she asked, staring at the sea.

  “Bold. She was a hard Broken, tough and respected. She didn’t let others walk on her, even in the face of death. She never gave up on her people.”

  “Like mother, like son,” Thalia said. “You shouldn’t give up, either, no matter what happened to your arm.” She stared deeply into his eyes. “She wouldn’t want you to.”

  Saul knew she was right. His father was strong and raised Saul to be the same. Even with a severed arm, his sword arm remained, possibly for the blade atop the Spire. He unhooked his plate slowly and rolled up his right sleeve, glancing at his marks of the Oracles. What is my purpose? he wondered. Saul heard the markings held little truth, and simply gave one a guideline to live his life, with no guarantee of truth. He saw a failure in Gorum, in Fae, and even his father. Were their markings false?

  Are mine?

  Thalia looked down at his arm. “I know your people have these markings, but I know little about them. What do they mean?” she asked, examining his right arm.

  “There are the colors, the god, the subject, and the outcome,” Saul said. Thalia raised a brow, making eye contact with him again. “These are red, implying the purpose of a slayer. The three crashing winds are Gadora’s mark, the sharp-hooked wing resembles the Dragon, and the drop represents—” Saul’s voice dropped off for a moment, revealing his emotion. “The drop represents death. To die for one’s cause. But I have seen fates fail.” Saul sat, thinking. “My Goddess came to me in a dream. We spoke of fate, it—left me believing as if a being makes their own fate.”

  “Then there’s hope.”

  Saul smirked. “Hope.” What hope do I have, now? Only time will tell. “The one on my other arm—well, I do not know. Blue is the protector, and the circle resembles all people. The god’s mark, the six-pointed sun, I do not recognize.”

  Thalia shuffled closer. “It’s kind of funny. Your sword arm is the slayer, and your shield arm is the protector.” She chuckled. “If it’s the one I’m thinking of, the six-pointed sun is the mark of Shiada, a goddess they worship in Renalia.”

  Shiada, the opponent of Lornak? The dastardly Dragon serves him. Does she aid my cause? “I do not know her.”

  “Not all gods care to be known.” She carefully led her finger down his arm, along the markings. “You make your own fate.” She took his chin and drew his eyes to hers. “Don’t forget that.”

  Her eyes were the color of the northern seas, the slit of black dilated subtly. She leaned in, giving him a prolonged kiss on the cheek.

  It felt like silk on his skin. His heart beat sped up to a charge, never reacting as such from a woman’s touch before. She backed away and looked down with a grin, and he returned it. While he did not prefer softness, hers was welcome.

  She slowly stood up and walked to the stairwell down to the city once more. He smiled but added a burning question that was a little out of place. “Why did you not mention being the princess?”

  Thalia winked. “You never asked,” she said with a sly smile, turning. “It’s okay, I appreciated it. It’s nice to be seen as a woman instead of a princess. Then again, you don’t seem like the title-hungry sort of man.” She gnashed her teeth. “Speaking of hungry, come on, it’s nearly time for dinner. My cooks are on their way.”

  Saul followed her back down the wall and through a market where the merchants yelled for business and told of their special prices. Saul walked alongside her, and they drew glances and a few wandering eyes. Saul still couldn’t believe he could be some fabled warrior, and hardly cared for it. If a blade would bring him the strength to free his people, he would acquire it if his goddess willed it.

  They soon came to a large, slate grey stone home with wooden siding. It had a steep roof with wood curved into sharp points at the end, with large bush gardens and flowers all around it. Saul spotted lilies, roses, nightrain flowers, and dragoncallers.

  Thalia motioned to the inn down the way. “Your allies will be staying there. Don’t worry, I spoke to the guards and sent the message along.” She led him into her house, which was modestly decorated, slightly messy with many books and weapons, along with armor sets strewn around the living room. “Are you ready to consummate the marriage?” she asked, sporting a side-smile and narrowed eyes.

  “Excuse me?” Saul said, surprised.

  Thalia burst out laughing. “It’s a jest! Come now Saul, you have to work for it. You can’t just ask me to marry you and suddenly hop into bed.” She sighed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I have a guest room upstairs. My chefs bring food here every day when I’m in town. They’ll be here soon, and I bet you’re starving. We have a big day tomorrow. I’m going with you, of course. There’s no way you’ll be getting to or climbing up the Spire without my help.” Saul wondered how he could even climb it. “I’ll be back. Sit tight, oh-stormy-one. You can change if you want, and there is a bathing room right through there.” She pointed beside the stairwell to a small door. “There won’t be any fighting tonight.”

  Saul sat in a broad, dark wooden chair with no cushions. It was hard, but Saul preferred it that way. He stared at his right forearm, severed down the middle. It still burned like a flame, feeling as though his hand still lived, and it was itchy as the hells.

  He sighed and slowly removed his plate armor. He unhooked the pieces one by one, the weight dropping off his shoulders like the stress of the journey. He rummaged through his bag, finding a pair of fitted, dark brown cloth pants and shirt. Before changing, he looked to the stairwell, thinking he should bathe to remove the smell of stale sweat for his potential bride. A ridiculous thought, at least would have been ages ago. But alas, he entered the bathing room, finding a small granite bath that seemed carved by a master.

  He bathed quickly and changed as fast as he could as to not make his princess wait. He threw on his spare outfit and waited in her largest chair that still only somewhat fit him.

  Saul lost all hope of a breath the moment she appeared. Thalia delicately descended her staircase wearing a fitted silk robe the same azure color of her eyes. Her hunter green hair spilled down past her left shoulder like a coursing river over her chest. She perked her nose up subtly. “Oh my, he wears something other than armor. I’m honestly a little surprised—and you bathed, I must say I’m flattered.” She grinned but lost it as her eyes drew toward his malformed limb. “How is your arm feeling?”

  “It burns and itches as if the hand still remained there,” Saul grumbled. He didn’t understand why it itched. The hand was gone, and yet it still had feeling. It screamed in pain, despite the wound clo
sed with a burn. He was lucky it didn’t fester.

  “I’ve heard that happens. Just because you’re missing part of your arm doesn’t mean you can’t fight. We can strap a shield on.”

  “That is simple to say. You still have both arms. Your people don’t see a one-armed warrior as half of one.”

  “Jests aside, you can’t let it drag you down,” Thalia said, biting her lip. “People respect bravery and leadership, not just combat prowess.” A long pause followed. Thalia looked toward the door. “The cooks should be here soon. I’m going to get some reading done. Your comrades can come, too, if they don’t wreck the place.” She plopped down on the couch beside him, and began reading a large leather-bound book. “Would you like me to teach you?” she asked.

  Saul winced. “I’m not so sure that’s necessary.”

  Her eyes grew sullen, a strange sight to behold, considering how Thalia reacted since their first meeting. “Stop that. Learning to read is important. Some cultures find a lack of literation a disrespect.” She patted the cushion next to her and signaled for him to come sit closer. After a peculiar pause in the air, she spoke quietly. “Would you read with me?”

  While he was not proficient with it, he saw no reason to reject her. If reading was something his wife-to-be enjoyed and wished him to participate in, he was wrong; it was necessary. He would do it without question, as a stronger bond meant for greater things within their lives. Thus, he got up from the chair, and sat beside her. He felt her posture relax, and she let out a strange relaxed breath the instant he sat down.

  To his surprise, it was a book about the history of Broken. “I did not know you had books like these.”

  “I thought it’d be nice to teach you using things you knew.”

  “Is that the only reason you decided to read this book?”

  “Yes and no. I want to teach you, and I think it’s important to learn about one’s spouse’s culture,” Thalia replied casually.

  Saul respected and appreciated her effort. She led her finger along the lines, reading as she went. Saul did recognize some of the words, but also missed many. She stopped and explained them, the structure and the lettering, and asked him questions about some of the story details that the book didn’t explain.

  By the end, he did learn quite a few new written words. Part of him disliked it, but she was going out of her way to teach him.

  She asked if he would teach her a few things with a blade, too, as she did want to better herself. She was small, but Saul had seen a small Broken kill a ten-foot tall beast once. It all came down to skill of the weapon, just as reading came down to skill of the mind.

  After a time she closed her book, and grew silent. Saul probed her with a few questions about her mother, since he hadn’t met her. She had been gone some time to Feyamin on a diplomatic mission. But she made no jests, which was a surprise.

  He gazed over to her, seeing her eyes divert away from the page, to the door, the stairs, and other random locations. “Is something the matter?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong.”

  “You don’t seem to be laughing as you always are,” Saul said.

  With a deep sigh, she said, “I don’t laugh all the time.”

  Saul shifted in his seat. She laughed much since she arrived, despite the occurrences. Her brother Ithaca, despite being insane and a traitorous murderer, died. Saul struggled to believe that she would actually feel for a death of such a disgrace. Her father also pushed her into marriage, although she agreed. Had she given up? Or is it me? “You worry about what being wed to me could mean,” Saul surmised.

  “No. I worry about my mother because she’s away, but that’s normal. I’m worried about my father since my bastard brother tried to kill him—and you—and I arrived too late. I’m worried about having to marry you. You clearly respect for me, even though I can feel the reluctance you were born with. Frankly, I’m surprised you took my father’s ridiculous offer because deep down, you hate our race. You all do.”

  Saul leaned back, not expecting that sort of response from her. He struggled with his beliefs for the past season. He traveled out of the Vale, and he was forced to challenge fate itself. In Rhoba, he challenged his beliefs on his people and purpose. In Shi’doba, he challenged his beliefs on the Hydris. He doubted himself throughout, but he didn’t doubt himself any longer. It irked him still, wondering if he could trust the other Hydris, but he finally felt like he could trust her. “I don’t know about the Hydris as a whole. I don’t know if I trust them. It has been ingrained into my being ever since I was young.” He placed his hand on hers. “But I trust you.”

  She turned to him with a strength in her eyes. “I know.” She nodded and perked her sharp gold-pierced ears. “If you didn’t trust me, you might have ended up like the others. It’s just—” After a brief, teary pause, she said, “It’s hard for me to believe that of all people, a Broken, one of the people that hate us, one of the people that dislike books as a whole, is the first one to sit with me to read,” she gave Saul a subtle smile, and said, “When I was left alone with whichever suitor it was, they would call me stupid for wishing to spend time with them doing something like this.”

  Her reaction was peculiar. Certainly, reading may be strange to him, but if it aided the bond between those to unify, it was a priority. “You asked me to read with you. I see no reason not to participate in activities you enjoy.”

  She gave a light chuckle. “It sounds so simple when you say it that way.”

  Saul just stared plainly and gave a subtle shrug. “Strong bonds are simple. My mother and father participated in the enjoyment of the other. She was a war-singer, and he helped her practice as well as watched every one of her performances. She always helped him form his speeches for his work as well as plays he performed in. The happiness of the other brings happiness to yourself in a strong unification.”

  Voices came from outside, and the scents of food tricked in.

  She looked deep into his eyes and placed a light hand on his thigh. “Are you saying we have a strong bond?”

  Saul didn’t smile, nor flinch in any way. “We have a bond,” he said plainly. “And bonds are strengthened when treated honor and respect, and live with a sense of equity.”

  A warm, relaxed smile grew at the corners of Thalia’s lips. She simply nodded, as no words were needed. A knock came to the door, to which she rose and went to it. Before she opened it, she looked back toward him with the same smile—a smile of mutual understanding.

  The chefs brought a meal fit for a lord—fresh, succulent stag meat braised with duck fat, various roasted ground vegetables, and more. Sweet fruits from the jungles of the northern plateau, spiced tea, and wine were served, as well. Saul ate rough game, fruits, and nuts for months, with a meal in an inn once in a rare while, so this feast was a treat. The seven comrades from the inn came to get some, as well. They gave the Hydris a watchful eye but voiced no complaints. The horror in Rhoba changed their belief of a ‘people’ as it did for Saul. Especially when they were taken in by the city of Serpentarius, there was something less than evil about the Hydris. Perhaps it was a lie of the Dragon, Saul suspected.

  Saul caught a look from Drof here and there, seeing a hint of concern in his bright yellow eyes. Saul sat and ate quietly, thinking of the danger to come. Thalia sat beside him the same way, not speaking a word, but her presence came with a sense of comfort which was needed. For in the days that approached, his life was in the hands of the gods.

  Chapter Forty-two

  Burning Hate and Scorching Light

  Kayden Ralta

  Kayden’s screams and wails echoed throughout the core of the town. She dropped to her knees, hands shaking, holding the black skull that lay where Vesper stood. She heard only dead silence and nothing more. Vesper’s murmuring was gone, and the smell—the smell—of burnt flesh and ash was all that was left.

  Her shrill screech brought forth onlookers from the town, watching Kayden’s pain flare up like the buildings
still aflame from the beast’s breath. She hated everything, and everyone. Anyone she cared for died. No matter who she met, it was only a matter of time.

  Lira, Mags, Domika, all of them—they’d die because of her.

  Vesper was like a father to her. They only knew each other a short time, but his kind gestures and strange personality were comforting. She felt he was family, someone she could talk to and relate to, and someone who understood her. He always said she reminded him of his daughter, too. Kayden wondered what Nala was like, having never met.

  Vesper was with them now, but Kayden cursed him for his sacrifice. There had to be another way. There had to be.

  “Kayden, I—” Lira’s voice came from behind her.

  “Get the hell away from me.” Kayden snarled, sniffling.

  She didn’t need them. She didn’t want advice, or help. She bawled and bawled, not caring what they thought. She came to Loughran to do something good, to change what she was, and yet all she did was kill another. She was bara marai, just like Sheeran always said. She was a born killer.

  “How could you let this happen? How could you?” Kayden yelled. She shot up and turned to Lira. “You and your divine—powers.” She shoved her, again and again. “This is what I was talking about! This is what happens when you don’t have any god damn self-confidence!” She shoved Lira and slapped her bloody side wound.

  Lira began to tear up, clutching her side. “Kayden, I didn’t mean—I didn’t want—”

  “Oh, of course you didn’t! Can’t you seal things like that right away? Send it back to whence it came without his help? We could have saved him!” Her gaze turned to the blond-haired idiot that stood there dumbfounded. “And you,” she walked over to him. “Just who the hell are you? Someone who sits back ‘til the last second? A lot of help you gave!” She pushed the drake and he stumbled back, stunned. His buggy blue eyes gave away his idiocy.