by M A Price
She tried to take a step back towards him but her limbs held her in place, he seemed to notice and advanced towards her. His face hardened with each step. The darkness around them highlighted the stony expression.
“It’s been a while Katanya,” he remarked, sword still out and aimed at her chest, directly where a matrimony Mark still lingered on her skin. “Why are you here?”
She had the decency to feel a blush come to her cheeks. It had been…a long time. Longer than her time away from The Guild. There had always been a reason she couldn’t visit, a mission or Kyllian or any excuse she could find. A fact even the old Katanya had never admitted to herself. She hadn't ever wanted to see her heroes play house. An ironic idea now.
“I need your help,” she sighed “You’re the only one.”
He shook his head in a no-nonsense manner.
“I thought as much, you better follow me then, we’ll get you some food and talk,” he indicated to Ballaca “…I’ll send the boys out to bring her somewhere safer,” with that Marius Torin trudged past her and towards the enormous tree house he called home.
She hesitantly followed, the memory of her own home and Nico leaving with every step.
Nine - Camrin
Lorren came at him with his hammer but Camrin dodged to the left, careful to remember his footwork, and brought his longsword up to meet the swing.
Lorren let out a chuckle and stepped back. “You can tell Ivloch trained you laddie,” he mused wiping a thin layer of sweat from his wide forehead.
They were near the makeshift stables and at first Camrin thought the chuckle he heard came from Dexter who had spent the morning feeding and cleaning out the Clorixs; but he knew that sound, better than his own laugh so wasn’t surprised when he turned to see Ivloch.
“Morning,” he said, moving his big frame between him and Lorren. “I have a mission for you Camrin,” he looked apologetically towards the shifting others, “…you alone, I’m afraid.”
Camrin nodded eagerly. He knew Ivloch would give him the details momentarily, probably in private away from Lorren and Dexter, but he didn’t particularly mind what they were.
He could tell from Ivloch’s demeanour it was a mission away from camp and anything that would give him some time away from this place, some time to think and not see Mara Lars’ face was a good thing.
He followed Ivloch slowly to his pavilion, trying not to let his impatience show as he stopped to talk to Yenna and some of the children. If he was going to go, he’d rather get on with it...
When they finally reached the entrance, he tilted his head to a smiling Jengen and entered. It was the time he had to wait inside alone that forced him to start feeling anxious. Ivloch liked to talk to his people; Camrin couldn’t have been more different in that regard. The soft chime of their voices discussing things he had no time for found its way to his ears. You can’t think or feel when all your mind and body is focused on one goal, he longed for that feeling again, the waiting just hurt.
The adrenaline that flooded his body upon the completion of a mission, he had always lived for it. The feeling of triumph, of fearlessness, the unbridled courage; he wished he always felt that. Now especially.
All the feelings Elex had taken from him.
Ivloch said nothing as he finally crossed the threshold. Camrin expected him to go to his desk but instead he walked to his bed in the corner and proceeded to lift up the straw mattress. Camrin raised his eyebrows but was glad Ivloch hadn’t turned to see the look of concern on his face; he didn’t think he would take it kindly.
It was a few moments before he finally pulled out a sword. A sword with a beautiful woman rendered in gold as the pommel. The sword that Ivloch had taken from the Tonkara Facility; the very one that Elex had died for.
Suddenly Camrin could guess exactly what his mission was, and a familiar rush started pumping through his veins before Ivloch could even open his mouth to give the order.
***
Camrin felt more awkward than he ever had in his life as he eyed The Raids, as the drinking hole was known.
Socializing was not what he had been trained for and neither was spending time in a seedy underground tavern full of criminals and rowdy drunks.
When Ivloch had asked him to take the sword somewhere safe, this wasn’t entirely what he had in mind. Sometimes the camps drove him crazy enough with all the men drinking and screaming for a fight. Ivloch had once told him everyone needed a release, and he supposed in some ways so did he. That’s what she had been once upon a time, wasn’t it?
It had been two moons since he left the camp with the sword close to him; as if it was a part of him. It had a weight to it like no other weapon Camrin had ever held. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was the User power invested in it; after all wasn’t the rumour that a part of Kara herself had gone into the sword? Much the same was said of her crown. Many believed it was why the spell had killed her.
The ultimate sacrifice to save the people of Brodanna from The Unforgiven. A temporary solution, he reminded himself. She had, after all, left all the hard work for people like him and The Guild.
He could admit that he would very much miss Kara’s sword when it was gone. It was hidden in the depths of his thick black wool cloak, but he could feel the warmth of it through the material of his tunic, like it was reminding him it was there; sharing its power.
He imagined that to be a User and hold such a weapon would be a beautiful feeling indeed.
It had been tiring, safely getting to the outskirts of Tonkara, making sure nobody was following or watching him. Guards had been stationed on every road that led towards the palace and he had enough difficulty with his papers on the border.
He had been to The Raids once before, when Niya Lopez first bought it. He remembered it well, its dingy entrance down cellar steps which looked more like they would belong to an underground squat than a large cavernous bar. He also remembered the type of patron it attracted; the drunks and the whores, not to mention the people always looking for some form of trouble.
Still, as he walked to the steps, he understood it had its uses. The King’s Men tended to stay away from this part of town, leaving it for the poor or the reckless and Niya had been one of the best allies and friends he had ever known.
She was a hero in the resistance, only a few years older than him, but a veteran of some of their finest battles. Something that had become more and more common since the Users were outlawed. She’d been the one who first discovered an Unforgiven had returned and brought the knowledge to The Guild that their time was now.
Fifteen moon turns ago had been when she’d left them. A love affair gone wrong; they always seemed to do so.
He couldn’t remember the details now and hadn’t been overly interested at the time, but some half memory said it was something to do with her girlfriend leaving her, leaving The Guild altogether and disappearing. Niya hadn’t taken it well and bought this place. The information she had given them from it had proved invaluable, but he missed her. A friend would have been nice recently. One who wasn’t always by Mara’s side.
He ran his hand down the sword again, careful to make sure it was still hidden and walked slowly down the steps. The guard outside seemed to recognise him or at least know to expect him, he simply grimaced and held the door open.
The Raids was large for a bar. It ran under several of the nearby buildings; its walls all looked like the inside of a cavern, that same chalky brown Camrin was so familiar with from The Guild’s previous subterranean camps. It was nearly empty, save for a few quiet patrons sipping their wine or ale. The bar took up an entire corner, the barmaid pushed a pint of ale towards him as he passed and pointed towards one of the booths at the back. He was happy to note they were as far away from the makeshift stage as possible.
Camrin was relieved nobody looked his way as he walked to the furthest empty booth. He reluctantly took a seat on one of the worn-out brown leather chairs.
He sipped at his ale
as he waited. It tasted terrible, convincing Camrin that Niya watered down everything she sold here. He shouldn’t really be surprised. It was only as he lowered down his tankard that he realised music was playing, music that he recognised.
Sat against the wall opposite him was a blonde woman at a piano. Instrumental music was so rare in Tonkara. The skill had been something King Jefferson Landress considered to be favoured by the Wielders of Brodanna and therefore frowned upon. The woman at the piano must be brave. Or stupid. Knowing The Raid’s clientele, it was probably stupid.
Her hands ran over the keys quicker than he could make out, but he knew the piece from the sounds that reverberated across the empty room.
Music that Elex had played him on their last ever night together.
For a moment all he could see was Elex in her low-cut red dress, blonde hair curling around her shoulders. Her up-turned mouth smeared with red. He should have known, from the way she’d smiled at him that night, the ‘I’m ready for chaos’ look in her olive eyes.
A sweat broke out across his forehead, accompanied by a moistening of his palms, as he thought of the words she’d said.
“You know, whatever the world brings us and whether we feel nothing or everything for each other, I hope we always have tonight.”
That night alone he had felt everything.
“Are you alright Mr Cassidy?” came a voice. He looked at the raven skinned woman next to the booth, as everyone else in the tavern also turned. She merely clicked her fingers and they resumed their previous business, for most that was drinking, with what seemed like a sigh of resignation. Niya clearly knew how to keep them in line.
She sat opposite him. Her mass of dreadlocked hair was tied high on top of her head, but cascaded down into the hood of her orange cape, as if it belonged there. Her dress was leaf green and she had an impressive belt full of hunting daggers, at least seven encircling her entire midriff and a sword hilt poking out from under the cape.
Niya Lopez looked well and just as deadly as he remembered.
“Sorry if you’re a little out of sorts Cassidy,” she declared, pulling a flagon of wine from her cloak and placing it on the table after a long swig.
“…And yet you let me drink this dresh?”
She gestured around the bar “I thought I’d give you something to whine about, we all know how much you like complaining.”
“This place seems to be suiting you,” he reached over and pulled her wine to him and drank, long and hard. It tasted much better. Niya played with one of her dreads, little skulls entwined within it.
“You know me. It’s somewhere I can cause trouble, deal with it myself, meet girls and still help out my friends. What more could a woman want?”
Camrin wondered if that sort of life would make him happy. He wanted it to, had always wanted it to, but something about it still didn’t feel quite enough.
“Why have you agreed to take the sword then Ni’? Ivloch told me you’re going to hide it. Why do that and risk your life here?”
“Oh this place will still be here when I get back. I’ve got no intention of dying or doing anything similar Cassidy. Like I said, I like helping my friends, and it just so happens that I know somewhere that sword will be safe. From The Unforgiven, the ruddy King, even you.”
It irked Camrin that Ivloch hadn’t told him exactly where Niya would be hiding Kara’s sword and it didn’t seem like Niya would either. Still, seeing her was nice. Hearing a familiar voice from someone who wouldn’t look at him with nothing but pity.
“I heard about Elex. Heard she took down a bloody Unforgiven prince with her. I’m sorry Cam.” Niya’s face had lost its usual impish look. Still there was no pity in her eyes, or even that much sadness; but he knew she cared for him. Wanted to see if he was okay, despite her own feelings on the matter.
Niya and Elex had been far from friends. Not in the way that Katanya and Elex had been; where there had been so much rivalry, but a thread of love that ran between them nonetheless, stronger than the hatred. No, Niya and Elex had flown at each other with weapons and spite on more occasions than Camrin could actually remember. She had been the thorn in his friendship with Niya; the reason he probably hadn’t kept in touch like he should have. All the times Ivloch had asked if he wanted to be the one to collect her updates-
He’d honestly always thought that Elex had been jealous of Niya. Envious of the freedom she had, the skill without the responsibility.
“I miss her Ni, but I’m doing alright. Things could have been different if she’d talked to someone. That’s the worst part.”
“It always is. What ifs are the poison we all drink.”
***
He spent the night talking to her. Drinks passing between them, better tasting ones than the ale. Niya did most of the talking, about the women she’d met, about the characters in her bar; and later as the alcohol freed her tongue, about how part of her heart still missed her former love, Zilliya. Camrin let himself talk about Elex; but he avoided all talk of Idyn, of Ivloch, and of Mara. Still, it felt good; what he had needed since it happened, perhaps before. The mix of the company and the drunkenness loosening him in a way life rarely did.
Sometimes one good friend who cares is all we need in the world.
It was the early hours by the time he left, off to find the inn he’d paid for under a false name. Kara’s sword was no longer with him, but he didn’t miss it. Yet. He had completed his part in its story. Now its destiny was in Niya’s dark hands and he couldn’t imagine anywhere it would be better off.
Ten – Jaxon
Her shift would have ended only moments ago but the knock on his small door failed to startle him.
It was the first day Jaxon had been given to rest since the nightmare of the Facility and the news of Hamill. Most of it had been spent further questioning every choice he had made for the past four years. To hell with this whole place. He should have gone over the sea. Whatever insane thought had stopped him, he cursed that more than anything else. The unknown would have been better.
He’d tried moving a few things around in his room in between the spurts of sleep, unleashing as much of his power as he dared before he became sicker. It was safe to do here, alone in this tiny little cell, with its bed and wooden cabinet. The only safe place he had left.
Or it had been until Samiah decided to interrupt.
He knew he didn’t mean that, he wanted to see her, he liked seeing her. The not sleeping or resting and the sickness burning through him was becoming dangerous, making his thoughts seem unclear and confusing. Jumbled, that was the word he wanted, wasn’t it?
He moved the three steps to the door and opened it.
Samiah stood there, her short hair unusually wild and a wicked grin on her face.
“Are you going to let me in?” She asked, but waltzed past him anyway, before he could answer, a brown bag in her hand which she unceremoniously dumped on the bed and then planted herself next to. She ran her hands over the delicate pink gown she wore. It was cut low on her chest and hugged her incredibly muscled body at every point. Jaxon had always thought he’d trained hard and kept himself in shape, until he’d met Samiah. Every free moment was spent trying to improve herself, to be the best. He couldn’t help but feel tired just from looking at her.
“You look… erm lovely,” he nodded and moved towards the paper bag, now a bigger mess, on the already messy cot. “What is this?”
Samiah picked it up and emptied the contents over the brown furs he used as a duvet. It seemed to be a mix of medicine and nutrient bars. Medicine was rarely given freely, even to the King’s Men and nutrient bars only ever given to royalty or commanders.
They were made by the very few User healers which had been captured and kept in the palace. They were rarer and more important than any gold in Brodanna. Samiah smiled at him again.
“How did you?”
“This morning, on my way to meet Jala for patrol,” she stroked the dress again, “…I happened to b
ump into Prince Handsome himself and he gave me this. He told me that I deserved it for my wonderful hard work recently and to share it with the rest of my unit.”
“What? We don’t get this!” He picked up a nutrient bar in his hand. They were supposed to make you feel better, stronger, to help you think quicker and faster. To work on Users and the Unpowered alike.
“We do now,” she tossed one up in the air, “…I tried one earlier, because well, who wouldn’t? Seriously have it. We’ve been working constantly and it’s a shitshow around here…if we get some perks then I for one, am not going to complain.”
He bit into the bar and was surprised at how truly ghastly it tasted. He thought perhaps only his father’s old cooking could have remotely come close. Still he forced himself to eat the whole thing. He needed every little bit of help he could get. The heat inside him uncurled with each bite.
“They are disgusting, aren’t they?” Samiah cooed, getting up and twirling around the room in the dress, he noticed the flowers around the bottom for the first time. He agreed and reached for some water to wash the taste away.
“Still, I’m not going to complain if the Prince wants to give me special things,” she winked at him, before moving herself slowly into his arms. “…Now, are you going to take me into the city somewhere nice or has a girl got all dressed up for no reason Jaxon? We live in the capitol and we've been cooped up for so long. Let's just see what Tonkara can offer us. Please?”
He didn’t want to take her to the city. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to spend time with her, but there was no way to say no. She would worry if he did or be angry and that was the last thing he needed. Angry Samiah was not a sight he enjoyed.