Bacorium Legacy

by Nicholas Alexander

  Chapter XXX

  The First Snow of Winter

  The sunlight that drifted in from the window was warm. It was odd... yesterday he had woken from what he had been sure had been death, and there had been a bright light in his eyes then, too. But today, the light was different. The warmth was comforting in a way he had not known in such a long time.

  Ah, but it wasn't just the sunlight that warmed him.

  At Luca's side was his dark-haired, green-eyed companion, who was still asleep. He had woken still just a few minutes ago, and for now he was content to let Emila sleep, so that he could enjoy her warmth and softness, and the sound of her breathing. He'd come to enjoy listening to her gentle breathing.

  They were in a small, humble room, somewhere in the Ivory Palace. Luca's memories of the aftermath of the battle were fuzzy; all he could really recall was being very tired and wanted to go sleep. He remembered Emila at his arm practically the whole time; leaving only for a bit to say something to her little sister. And before all that, Zaow making some kind of dramatic speech before the crowd of people who had followed Luca through the city.

  What kind of speech had that been? Luca really couldn't remember; he just knew he'd wanted it to be over so he could go take a nap. Mana exhaustion wore one out like nothing else.

  He returned his attention to Emila, and gently brushed a strand of black hair out of her face.

  That was enough. She stirred, moaning softly, and opened her eyes. "Ah... Good morning."

  "Sorry, I guess I was really tired. I've been out since yesterday afternoon."

  She smiled. "You have the right. You did a great thing."

  "Stopping Zinoro? I guess so, but it wasn't that that saved the city..."

  Emila sat up, and yawned loudly. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"

  "Starving, yeah."

  At that moment, the door slowly opened, and in walked Jared, his halberd slung over his shoulder. He took a few steps into the room, and stopped as he spotted the two of them in a single bed.

  "Ah, so how long has this been going on?"

  Emila's face turned red, and she looked away. Luca just chuckled. "Just since the Elder Hall."

  "Really? Selphie had thought it started earlier."

  Emila stared at Jared in disbelief. "She what...?! Never mind. Let's talk about something else, please."

  "How are Brand and Wiosna?" Luca asked.

  "Brand had some broken ribs, which the healers treated," Jared told them. "He's fine, he'll just have to take it easy for a few days. As for Wiosna, her injuries were a bit more severe, but she's okay. The healers treated what they could, and the rest will heal with time. She'll be able to attend tonight's feast, at least."

  "Tonight's feast?"

  "Indeed. In celebration of out victory. And in your honour, of course. It's quite a historic thing that's happened?"

  Luca frowned, confused. "Historic? What, winning the battle?"

  Emila looked to him, and tilted her head to the side. "Luca, don't you remember?"

  "Remember what?"

  "What happened after the battle."

  "I can't remember anything about that. I was so tired, I could barely think straight."

  Emila grinned mischievously, looking to Jared, who smirked and raised an eyebrow.

  "What is it?" Luca demanded, starting to get irritated. "Tell me what happened."

  Jared said, "Luca, right after you handed Zinoro over to King Zaow, he took out his sword and knighted you, right there before everyone."

  "He... what?"

  "There aren't many knights these days, you know," Jared continued, still smirking. "In fact, you're the first knight of Sono since the rule of Zaow's father. It's quite an honour."

  Luca was agape. He turned to Emila, silently pleading with her that this was some sort of weird joke. But she was grinning, and she giggled, and said,

  "My boyfriend's a knight."

 

  Drip.

  He closed his eye, and did his best to filter out that aggravating sound.

  Drip.

  He could feel his mana within himself, but he could not reach it. It lingered forever, just beyond his reach, like bread dangled before a starving man. It was an unbearable frustration. So close... yet impossibly far.

  Drip.

  Really, would it be so difficult for them to fix that damn leaking pipe?

  Zinoro opened his eyes, giving up on his meditation. It was pointless, really. Even without that aggravating dripping sound, the mediation was useless. His mana was cut off from him by the ornate circle craved into the stone floor he sat on. The circle was similar to the one outside his city, which he had used to teleport his forces and launch his various surprise attacks.

  Drip.

  It occurred to him that perhaps it was intentional. A form of torture, to slowly drive the prisoners insane. Well, he would not break. He had a will of iron.

  Though it was so easy to lose time in the cell, Zinoro made a point of keeping track of the days. Three had passed since he had been imprisoned. He was nearly as cut off from the outside world as he was from his mana, but he knew a little of what had happened in the city in the aftermath of the battle, from listening to the gossip of his gaolers.

  A lot of people had died, and a lot of the city had been destroyed. The people were hard at work repairing the damage Zinoro's army had done. But despite the sombre mood one would expect from this, the people of T'Saw were considering it a victory.

  The people of T'Saw were well aware of Luca having defeated him, and they were proclaiming him a hero. Unlike his father, Luca was not denying his noble deed. Though some were angry that he had spared Zinoro at all, most people of T'Saw were already telling stories of the son of Lodin, and his great victory over the invader.

  Gordon, Zinoro's sole surviving acolyte, had initially sat in a cell across from him. But, likely at Luca's request, he had been freed and pardoned for his help in Zinoro's defeat. In the small amount of time they had spent together, Zinoro and Gordon had not exchanged a single word.

  Aside from that, Zinoro knew nothing, though there really wasn't much to know. The battle was over. Sono had won, and while they had suffered losses, they were still strong. Acaria, on the other hand...

  There was no one there now. Acarienthia was empty, and would almost certainly remain that was forever. It was a tragedy, but Zinoro was finally realising that nothing he could have done would have prevented it. His campaign had not been to save Acaria, but to annihilate Sono and turn it into the same wasteland. And it had failed.

  A part of him - which grew each day that passed - was glad it had failed.

  "You've got a visitor," said the gaoler.

  Zinoro looked up. "Really? You would actually let someone come and see me?"

  "I would not," the gaoler said spitefully. "But Sir Luca insisted upon it."

  Sir? So he'd been knighted. Normally that would have been quite surprising, even after such a victory. The kings did not knight their men anymore these days. But Zaow was an old-fashioned man.

  The gaoler stepped aside, and Zinoro looked, expecting Luca to come into view. He did not.

  Instead, the petite form of Eva stepped in front of the cell.

  Zinoro found himself turning his single eye away. His missing eye - which had a new patch over it, but without the magick glass eye was just covering an empty socket - was what faced her.

  "A little privacy, please?" Eva demanded.

  The stern gaoler replied, "My orders are to keep watch on him at all times-"

  "Which you can do from the other side of the room," Eva said. "Or would you like me to let Sir Luca know that you didn't listen to his orders?"

  Grumbling, the gaoler left them.

  "He's already been given that much authority, has he?" Zinoro muttered. "Have you come to set me free?" He was only half-joking.

  "No," Eva said, her voice unusually cold. "I came to ask you a question."

  "Ask away."

  "Emila
says you killed our mother."

  He waited a long moment, before he said, "I did."

  Eva scoffed. "I knew it was true. I just wanted to hear it from you. When you first took me in, you told me you had just attacked the town to bring her back. You told me her death was a mistake... an accident."

  "It was only a half-lie." He could not look her in the eyes.

  "You really are just a madman, aren't you?"

  "It would seem that way," he said. "It's funny, really. Ever since I was put in this cell, I've been seeing things differently. It's almost like I've woken up from a dream. The obsession is gone, and I can see clearly just how mad everything I've done really was. I can't explain it..."

  "It's too late for apologies," Eva said.

  "That's not what this is."

  "Then what is it?"

  Zinoro sighed. "I know what you're thinking. You think I was just using you... taking advantage of your abilities to create my army. And at first, that's exactly what it was. But our mother's final request... that I would spare you and your sister... I took that to heart. My madness was of a twisted view of honour, so even through that I could not bring myself to break an oath."

  "You're lying."

  "Not to you. If I lied to the whole world, I would still tell you the truth."

  Eva balled her little fists. "But you told me you did not kill Mother!"

  "In truth, I never actually said that," he muttered. "I just told you the things you repeated a moment ago. I did attack the town with the aim of bringing her back. And my madness did bring me to kill her, and I later saw it as the mistake it was."

  Eva looked away, sobbing a bit. "If you didn't want to do it, then why did you? Why did you do any of this? Why didn't you just go to Sulin and be with us... we could have all been a family together..."

  Zinoro closed his eye. "I truly don't know. I was just... so lost in my own obsession. I didn't want any of this. I just... couldn't stop myself."

  "Nobody you tell that to is going to believe that."

  "I know," he said. "I can hardly believe it myself. But as I said, I would not lie to you."

  For a while, neither of them said anything. Zinoro broke the silence, asking, "Do you hate me, Eva?"

  "I don't know."

  "I hate myself," he said. "I wanted him to kill me. I wanted somebody to stop me. Death would have been a release from this insanity. But living with this guilt... this is what I deserve, I suppose."

  Eva glanced at the clock on the wall. "I have to go soon. King Zaow is having a feast to celebrate the victory. I need to go get ready."

  Though he didn't want to, Zinoro finally turned his head and met her gaze. "Go on, then. Go be with your sister." Eva's eyes grew wide, and she drew in a sharp breath. "What? What is it?"

  "Zinoro, your eye..."

  "What?"

  "...it's green."

 

  The sun drew close to the edge of the horizon. Gordon stood at the bottom of the city steps, dressed for travel, staring out into the orange rays. A cold wind blew through the Markira Fields, and he shivered. Autumn was on its last breath.

  "Are you really sure you don't want to stay for the feast?" Luca asked him. "Zaow has promised a seat for you."

  "I'll respectfully decline," Gordon said. "The hospitality has been... amazing, but I don't think I should be staying in T'Saw too long. Pardon or not, I was still one of Zinoro's acolytes. I don't think the people of T'Saw would kindly welcome me."

  "I'm sure it wouldn't be that way..." Luca started, but even he didn't quite believe that. Emila and Eva's identity as Zinoro's sisters was being kept a close secret among the people of the palace. The public could never know, for fear of what they could do.

  Luca glanced over at Emila, who stood beside him, bundled up in a wool coat. She stared at Gordon with an amused smile.

  "I feel my place is elsewhere," Gordon told them. "I don't know where yet, but I guess that's part of the journey, isn't it?"

  He let out a long sigh. He could not go back to Acaria, nor could he stay in Sono. He had passed through many placed in his travels before, but he had never had any home besides Acaria. Now that was gone, as was his prior obligations. Indeed, for the first time in his life, Gordon was a free man.

  Emila then spoke, for the first time. "Gordon... you didn't give me your name when we first met."

  Gordon stared at her for a moment, and then chuckled. "I'd thought you'd forgotten, actually. You never said anything before."

  "There was so much going on," Emila said. "I actually recognised you the moment I saw you, but with Eva there, and all the fighting after that..."

  "I understand."

  Emila stepped over to Gordon and embraced him. "Thank you," she said. "Without you, none of this could have happened."

  "I wish I could have freed your sister, too," he said, a touch of regret in his voice. "I could have, I suppose. The choice was between preserving my identity, and keeping the two of you together. I chose the former... I suppose because I'm a coward."

  "You're not. It was very brave of you to do what you did." Emila pulled away from Gordon, and returned to Luca's side.

  "I agree," Luca said. "You're the unsung hero of all this."

  "And let's keep it unsung." Gordon chuckled again. "I'm not a hero. Not in that sense, anyway. I could have done more."

  He looked back out at the sunset, his eyes filled with memories.

  "That's why I'm so eager to get out there. I may be getting old, but I still have time to write my own story. Perhaps I could be that sort of hero yet."

  And with that, they said their final goodbyes, and Gordon set off down the road. Luca and Emila watched him until he was just a small speck on the horizon, and the sun had set too much to see him. And then they turned around and made their way back up the steps to the city.

  They passed through the gates, the two guards bowing their heads to Luca as he passed. The streets were beginning to empty, as nighttime was drawing close, but the occasional person here and there spotted them and would clap or bow or smile as they passed.

  "It's hard to believe this is all over," Emila said.

  "I know," Luca said. "For the past few months - ever since I met you, really - finding Zinoro and getting my revenge was my only focus in life. All I could think about was Zinoro, and how much I hated him... and my father. I thought if I did not avenge him that I would be shaming his memory. But now, I feel like I chose right in sparing Zinoro. I think that's what he would have wanted."

  "I never knew him," Emila said, "but he sounds to me like he valued life. I don't know why he made the decisions he did, but it seems clear to me that he cared about you, Luca."

  "I know he did."

  He looked up at the sky. Regardless of whether he had made the right choice, Luca felt that Lodin could rest in peace.

  Emila then grabbed Luca's arm and looked up at him, wearing her cutest expression. "But was that really the only thing you could think about?"

  He couldn't help but laugh. "No, of course not. I fell for you pretty quickly, to be honest. But I denied it, for all my dumb reasons. Not wanting you to get hurt, not wanting to be weakened by attachment, not wanting to have to choose between you and Zinoro... really, anything I could bring myself to think... I just wasn't ready for it."

  "I wasn't, either..." Emila muttered. "To be honest, I still don't know if I am. I still have so many issues to sort out. I need to learn to be able to face my problems, and not bottle up my feelings. But I have you, and I have my little sister, and I no longer have the fear of the Acarians lingering over me. I feel like everything is going to be okay."

  They continued their unhurried walk back to the palace, and didn't say anything for a while. Only a few rays of orange still peaked over the horizon, and long shadows reached from every building. Emila did not let go of his arm the entire way.

  And then, she closed her eyes and put her head on his shoulder.

  "I'm happy."

  Nothing more n
eeded said.

 

  With things finally having died down in the aftermath of the battle, Zaow declared that it would be a night of celebration. And so it was. Luca and Emila returned to the palace, and they heard music before they even entered the dining hall.

  The music greeted them as they entered, being played on flutes and harps and drums. The four long tables were lavish with plates of thick meat and fine dishes, and goblets of wine and ale. The lights were off, and many candles provided soft illumination. The King sat at the head of the middle table, drinking deeply of his wine. To his side, his son Trist sat beside the stuttering lord Balzac, who whispered something in the prince's ear, earning a strong laugh.

  Luca quickly spotted their companions, seated at their own table, and he and Emila rushed over to join them.

  "About time you two got here!" Brand exclaimed. He got up, gave Emila a big hug, and gave Luca a strong clasp on his shoulder. "I was starting to think you two were just going to slip off and have a private celebration of your own."

  "I think that's for later," Emila said with a smirk.

  "Look at who's coming out of her shell," Brand laughed.

  They all took their seats. Brand sat beside Luca, and Emila took his other side. On the other side sat Selphie, with Jared and her brother. Nearby Ash sat with a full plate in front of him, and Wiosna sat on her own at the far end. Everyone looked to be in good spirits; even Ash had cracked a smile at Brand's joviality.

  After a moment, Selphie addressed Luca, "I feel we didn't part on very good terms."

  Luca waved his hand. "Water under the bridge."

  "Still, I feel I need to apologise," Selphie said. "I said some things I found myself regretting..."

  "We both did," Luca said. "What I said about you and your father at the Elder Hall... it was wrong of me to do. At the time I felt going to war was the right decision. I do not regret that. But I didn't need to call you both liars. So I'm sorry for that."

  Selphie smiled. "I accept your apology."

  Jared then said, "You've changed, Luca. When I first met you, you were angry and eager to battle. You've grown since then."

  "I suppose I have..."

  Jared held up his drink. "You saved this city, which is so dear to me. And you saved the lives of everyone here. I'll be in your debt forever." He drank.

  Luca and Emila exchanged a quick glance. They were both thinking the same thing. Everyone thought that the revenants had vanished when he defeated Zinoro. Luca was not the sole hero of the battle, but the people of T'Saw were treating him as such, because that's what they believed he was.

  At Emila's request, he had not told the others that Eva had created the revenants, and that she had been the one to undo them. She did not want her little sister to be held with that responsibility. Luca had agreed without complaint. It made him uncomfortable to be taking credit for something he did not do, but the alternative would be to force the blame of so many people's deaths onto a fifteen year-old girl.

  It was ironic, Luca realised. His father had declined to take credit for something he had done, for the sake of someone close to him. Now, Luca was doing the opposite, but for the same reason.

  He looked down at the food in front of him, and felt his stomach rumble. It was a celebration, he decided. It was the time to set aside those kind of thoughts and just be glad that everything had worked out alright.

  As Luca ate, the others engaged in casual conversation. Selphie spoke about the plans to rebuild T'Saw, and her efforts to assist the people of the city. Her brother merely frowned and said nothing on this.

  "Eva still isn't here?" Emila asked.

  Brand frowned, and said, "She actually stopped by before you arrived. She grabbed two plates off the table and took off before anyone could ask her anything."

  "Oh," Emila said, looking disappointed. "I see..."

  "I think we all know who that other plate is for," Luca muttered. "Perhaps it was a mistake to let her see him."

  "I'll talk to her," Emila said. "But she's free to make her own decisions. She has known him for the past two years. I may hate him, but I won't stop her from seeing him."

  "Are you sure about that?" Luca asked her.

  She nodded.

  Across the table, Ash finished his plate and wiped his face with his napkin. Then, he said to Luca, "Brother."

  "Yes?"

  "I don't feel that you made the right decision," Ash said to him. "I think you should have killed him. However... I understand why you did so."

  Luca nodded slowly.

  "We may not see eye-to-eye on everything, but I want you to know that I do respect you." Ash held out his hand. "I always have."

  Luca smiled, and reached across the table, shaking his hand. "Likewise."

  Ash returned a half-smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be retiring early. I have training at sunrise."

  Ash rose, but before he started off, he cast one last glance at the two at his side. Jared whispered something in Selphie's ear, and she stifled a laugh. They didn't even seem to notice him.

  He frowned, and left.

  Luca turned to Brand. "What did he mean by training?"

  Brand finished chewing what was in his mouth, then said, "He joined the guard force. The archers that he commanded in the battle spoke highly of him. And as you know, there's a lot of open positions."

  Luca frowned. "Indeed. Well, I suppose he can do as he wishes."

  Brand shrugged.

  "What about you?" Luca asked him. "Are you going to go and join something?"

  Brand chuckled. "No way. Not my style. Especially not the guard force. I had enough of that in the few minutes I was in charge during the battle."

  "I heard about that." Luca glanced over at Wiosna, who quietly ate by herself. "How has she been since then?"

  "The healers patched her up fine," Brand said. "She blacked out while she was fighting. According to the others, it sounded like... that."

  "I see," Luca said, his voice a bit quiet. "I really don't know what we should do about that. We can't just ignore it."

  "Until we know more about it, I don't think there's anything we can do," Brand said. He then sighed, and said, "The blackout isn't what she's been miserable about. She has feelings for you, Luca."

  "I know," he said sadly. "I've known for a while."

  Emila was looking at him now. He returned her gaze, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

  "This as well, I have no idea what to do about," Luca said. "Perhaps her heart will change, or we could find her someone else..."

  "If only it was that easy," Brand said. "The world would be a much simpler place if we could just turn off those kind of feelings, or just turn them to someone else." There was something in his voice that made Luca think he understood this problem well.

  "In another world, perhaps I could have made her happy," Luca said. "But there's only one person I belong to."

  Emila smiled.

  The room was then filled with the sound of a spoon tapping against a glass. The chatter died down, and the sound of the band faded. The many nobles and lords in the hall turned their attention to the king, who rose from his seat at the head of the centre table.

  "T'Saw survived this attack," King Zaow said. "The first battle fought within our own walls. We very nearly fell, and we likely would have, were it not for one man. You all know him, because yesterday I made him the first knight Sono has had in fifty years."

  All eyes in the room then turned to Luca.

  "The man who attacked our city, with an army of unnatural soldiers, now sits within our dungeon," Zaow continued. "And it is thanks to Luca."

  Applause filled the room.

  As it died down, Zaow said, "For some time, I have known the battle with the Acarians was coming. I put it off, fearing the devastation it would bring on our people. There was even a point where I would have bargained with Zinoro, and I even considered sending Luca to him in binds, for the promise that he would not bring war to us. I wa
s a fool for thinking that would have saved us. In truth, I would have sacrificed the one person capable of saving us. Thankfully, my dear daughter saw the error of my ways."

  The crowd was silent, waiting for his next words.

  "I have ruled over Sono for forty-five years," Zaow said. "Nearly half a century. In that time I have had to make many hard decisions to protect this kingdom and its people. Some were the right choices... others I came to regret. But in all that time I never came so close to sending Sono to its doom as I did when I nearly sold out this young man to our greatest enemy... Luca, would you please come before me?"

  Luca looked to his companions, and they nodded in encouragement. Emila gave him a bright smile. He took a deep breath, and rose.

  Everyone in the hall was watching him. Hundreds of eyes. Feeling a bit of nervousness he'd never felt before, Luca made him way over to Zaow, one step at a time.

  Finally, he stood before the old king.

  "Sir Luca," Zaow said to him. "Your efforts spared this city, and likely this whole kingdom, from destruction. You are a hero, and your legacy will remain with the people of Sono forever. Your name will be carved beside the names of the heroes of legend. I promise that you, your children, and your children's children, will always be welcome here in T'Saw. All I ask in return is that you find it within yourself to forgive this old fool for what he nearly did."

  They all waited in tense silence.

  Finally, Luca got down on one knee, bowing before the king.

  "There is nothing to forgive, Your Majesty."

  Zaow cracked a slight smile. "Then rise, knight of Sono. Turn, and face the people you saved."

  He did. As he rose, he reached to his side and drew Siora from its sheath. There was a gasp as he held the sword high in the air. And then, his mana rushed up, and a shining white flame enveloped the blade.

  "For Sono!" Luca shouted.

  The people in the hall echoed his cry, and thunderous applause broke out. It continued for nearly a minute, until the manaflame died and he returned the blade to his side. He looked to his companions, seeing them clapping with proud faces.

  And then, he realised one of them was missing from the table.

 

  "Emila?"

  After nearly an hour of searching, he found her, alone at the palace battlements, looking wistfully at the night sky. She turned as he spoke her name, a bit surprised to see him.

  "Luca... you didn't have to come looking for me..."

  He went over to where she was, leaning against the battlements. From that point, one could see the entire city.

  "Why did you leave?" he asked her. A strong wind blew through, and he shivered. "It's freezing up here, and you didn't bring your coat."

  She didn't seem to notice. She returned her gaze to the night sky. There were few clouds, so the moon and stars shone bright.

  "I kept a lot of secrets from you, Luca," she said. "So many things I should have told you... you should have known I was his sister. I knew that was why Trunda came after me, but I didn't tell you. I couldn't bring myself to say it. I didn't want it to be true... I tried so hard to convince myself it wasn't, but I never actually believed that."

  "That's done with," he said to her. "We've already put this past us..."

  "No," Emila said in a sad voice. "I can't let go of this regret, because I still have one more secret I've kept from you. One more thing about me that you have to know."

  He blinked. What else could there possibly be? "What is it?"

  Emila met his gaze, looking like she was about to break down. She took a deep breath, and then she said, "There's something wrong with me... something I've known about myself for years. I... I can't have children, Luca. My body just isn't able to do it. My parents were the only ones who ever knew, because I couldn't tell anyone. No man would ever want to marry someone like me, who could never give him a son..." She was beginning to sob, looking at him like he was about to start screaming at her.

  He took her hands. "I don't care about that."

  "R-really?" she said. "But... your legacy..."

  "It can die with me," he said. He then smiled. "Or perhaps it will live on in another way. But I couldn't care in the slightest about something like that." He cupped her chin, and wiped the tears from her eyes with his thumb. "It may be cruel of me to say this, but I find it a bit amusing that you were so worried about something like that. Don't you know me better by now?"

  She didn't say anything for a moment. And then, she suddenly moved towards him, throwing her arms around him and kissing him deeply.

  Thrown off guard, Luca fell onto his back. Emila fell with him, not breaking the kiss. He didn't care. He pulled her close, thinking back to the night before the battle. He closed his eyes, and was lost in the feeling of her soft lips against his.

  When the kiss was finally broken, Emila sat up, and pulled him into an embrace. She set her head down on his chest, and closed her eyes.

  He looked down at her, taking in her soft features. Her dark hair, her light complexion, her heart-shaped face, her soft skin... She was an angel. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and held her closely. He closed his eyes, and some time passed.

  Luca felt something cold and wet touch his nose. He opened his eyes, and looked up to see snowflakes falling down from the sky.

  "It's snowing..." he muttered.

  "I know," Emila replied with a mischievous smile.

  "Is this your doing?"

  She didn't answer. She giggled, and shifted a bit closer to him. Her small body was warm, in contrast to the cold air outside.

  "I love you," he whispered to her.

  "I love you too," she whispered back.

  They remained like that well into the small hours of the night, lying contently by themselves under the stars, as snow fell around them.

  EPILOGUE

  She breathed. There was life in her yet. In the emptiness, in the grey empty death that this land had become, she lived.

  She floated in a lake, the bottom of the chasm she had fallen into. She hadn't known there was still water down there when she had jumped. She had no guarantee that she would have survived at all.

  She had simply trusted in her goddess to save her.

  And she had.

  Verra drew in a long breath, celebrating her life. She lived to serve her goddess, and it was with a special sort of happiness that she knew she could go on doing so.

  But first, she needed to find that sword; the one she had taken from the Saetician king when she killed him. It had fallen first, and likely rested at the bottom of the lake. So she dived in, and searched for it. Her first attempt found nothing, so she returned to the surface and breathed. Once she was ready, she dived again.

  It ultimately took Verra the rest of the day before she found the sword. Still in its sheath, the blade had somehow managed to worm its way between two rocks in one of the deepest parts of the lake. Almost as though it was trying to escape her.

  She chuckled at the futility of it.

  Verra strapped the sword across her back, and made her way to the narrow shore at the bottom of the pit. The lake, which was once filled the chasm in its entirety, was almost dried up. Water did not linger in Acaria.

  After searching for a while, she found a winding path back up the cliff, and made her way back to where she had been. The abandoned town was empty once more. After looking around a bit, she pieced together what had happened. Serpos was dead, and Lodin's son, Gordon, and the other two had left.

  It suited her just fine. Serpos had only been one of several loose ends that needed tied up. Zinoro was another, but he would take care of himself soon enough. Either he would be slain, or the power he wielded would consume him, and he would annihilate himself.

  Verra had been with Zinoro for so many years; lived in his palace, lent him her services, and even shared his bed whenever he demanded it. All those years, and he had never suspected her true allegiance. He had recognised Gordon for the traitor he was, but Ver
ra had played her part without fail.

  She understood well what Zinoro was, and she knew he could not control the goddess's mana. He was but a puppet in her hands, and he had already served his purpose. Wiping out Sono, if he could do it, would just be icing on the cake that he had already made for them.

  Satisfied, Verra continued her trek across the Grey Wasteland. Though it was well into the night hours, no monsters came after her. The beasts of Acaria were fearsome, but even they shied away from someone who was touched. She could feel them, lingering on the edges of the shadows, too hungry to flee, but too afraid to attack. Those dumb beasts thought they owned the shadows. In time, that domain would come back to its true master.

  Weeks passed as she made her way across the emptiness that was Acaria. She stopped only to eat and sleep. Even she was not free of the basic needs of mortals. The distance was long, but she was in no hurry. No one chased her anymore, and her goddess was patient.

  And then, at last she arrived. The once great temple greeted her as a gaping ruin, sitting deep within a valley of greyness in the corner of Acaria like a relic forgotten by time and man. To anyone else, it would have radiated a thick, ancient darkness that triggered a fear that mortals could not contain. The fear of the Old Ones. But to Verra, this was home. It was the last shrine; the last point where her goddess could touch the mortal plane. Only here was the air truly fresh to Verra. Only here did the silence ring true in her ears. Only here did she feel pure and alive.

  Some day, when they had fulfilled their duties, all of Bacoria would have that feeling. All would belong to the goddess.

  Verra entered the shrine, passing through the decrepit halls. The temple was old; the oldest named thing in Bacoria. But it did not collapse from the weight of time. The power of her goddess kept it alive.

  Zinoro had once come here. It was before she had known him, but the others had told her of it. The Dreadlord had met him, and took him through the initiations. Though Zinoro was touched, he had never been a Hand. He was but a tool for them to use; a tool that had served its purpose perfectly.

  Verra arrived at the final hall. The other six were there, waiting for her as the goddess had told them to. They stood around the table in a near-perfect ring. A ring of five that missed only two - herself and one who would never stand there again.

  She joined them, pulled the sword from her back, and placed it on the table. She was relieved... glad to be rid of the thing. It stank of purity and righteousness.

  "Welcome back to us," said the Dreadlord. His voice was low, deep and ancient. It was a relief to hear that voice again. "The Shadow returns. As the goddess demanded, you brought back one of the Fragments."

  "I have," she answered.

  "The time draws ever near," the Dreadlord continued. "The preparations are nearly complete. Zinoro has been dealt with. He is no longer a concern to us."

  "He is dead?" she asked.

  "He still lives. Imprisoned in T'Saw. But he has been separated from his Fragment, and cut off from the goddess's mana. He has become weak again."

  Verra frowned. "A better outcome would have been his death, or the destruction of Sono. Left like this, he is a loose end. He could still be a problem."

  "Perhaps, but for now, he is irrelevant. The goddess will tell us what to do with him when the time comes. For now, we have other concerns. The aftermath is still favourable to us. Two of the free nations have been crippled by the battles. One remains strong. This shall be our next target."

  The Dreadlord looked to the one at his left, the smallest of the Hands. She returned his glance, and smiled.

  "Chosen Child," he said. "My little Ophelia. Are you ready?"

  The young girl's smile grew, eager to act at last. "I am."

  "Good. The goddess has given us our next instructions. Listen well, all of you."

  Above them, the great statue of Ekkei observed all.