by Shakyra Dunn
One by one, he made peace, the whispers of the ancient tongue sliding through his ears, leaving him with passing glances. The words of his ancestors, lending him a helping hand as he studied his newfound abilities. He never expected this variation of Necromancy. It was always depicted as a dark art in stories—yet he was left to use the hidden world as a separate entity from anything that Minsura and Adrylis could conceptually discover.
Not every Necromancer had a dark heart, and this secret world where the spirits slept gave him the resolution. That was something he could prove to Remiel, to the kingdom, to himself. He freed his heart from the captivity of the world and watched the figures stir. He didn’t want to be present when they woke, so he decided to make himself scarce and leave Linmus. Hopefully, his mistakes were corrected enough that the citizens would be able to live wholesomely once he returned with Remiel.
Now it was just a matter of where he’d begin.
His first destination was below the kingdom, in Nilu. That was the last place that he’d visited, the very grounds where he was left for dead. The houses were still intact, and the mines were continuing to smoke out. But one thorough inspection led him to believe that Nilu was abandoned. It was just after dark, but not late enough for every lantern to be out. He peered inside of some of the houses to find them all ransacked, some of the lantern poles helplessly overturned. It was likely that the citizens were attacked and managed to flee before any chaos could ensue.
Olen must have gone with them.
He decided to ransack even further, snagging a lantern and four pieces of flint from a nearby house, going to scout out the mines. Maybe they would hold answers about tracking down his allies; bit by bit, memories about them were returning. He trailed down the dark mines, keeping his lantern in front of him, stepping lightly, but quickly, avoiding the battered chasms and closed off sections. The passage leading him to the Orb of Concord’s former home was sealed away by several boulders that had collapsed during Remiel’s siege, leaving him back at square one. Solus sighed, taking a seat in front of the rocks, resting his forehead against the icy stone. The winter chill didn’t compare to his lingering disappointment. It was so long ago that he was here, and yet, he couldn’t overcome anything involving the mysteries of their separation.
His fingers touched fabric, and he was appalled to find his ribbon partially snagged under a boulder, the color a tad faded, but the elastic still perfectly intact, as though it never went through the ringer with the damages done to it. He lifted the boulder to pull the ribbon from its captivity, making sure to properly place it again to avoid the others falling out of line and potentially crushing him.
He could still hear Rem’s screams, the miasma torching his skin long after it dissipated. Rem pushed him away, ultimately dropping him several meters. He had either tried to kill him or to save him. Solus wouldn’t know the answer until he was face-to-face with him. He returned to the spirit world after gathering his thoughts. There were few souls lingering here, and no corpses to return them to. He sent them on their way to another place, safe from harm. None of them were his allies. It was at least a good sign that they were either alive and well, or they were out of range from any turmoil in the shafts.
He needed to keep moving. There was nothing for him in Nilu either. Maybe it was about time that he left the traces of Linmus that were scattered to the wind. He could cross the seas and venture closer to the north. Maybe there, he could find some answers.
It took Solus several days to wait for a passing boat by the Kinsley bay, and after persuading the owner to give him a lift due to his rather prolific connections, he was well on his way across the eastern borderline. Every city that he passed on the way told him the same story: that the prince was still missing despite all the odds of his return. Days turned into weeks, and his travels were getting nowhere. The weather fluctuations of each city ranging from blistering heat and frigid cold along with watchful eyes were making him uneasy, and the overbearing concern for his lost friends was taking its toll.
He recognized his current region due to the prosperous growth of flowers and herbs despite the bitter cold—the cusp of Ocula, where his journey truly made headway. The mountain trail was further north and far behind him, reminding him frivolously of his progression. As he made a mark on the trees and bit into an apple, he suddenly tugged on his scarf to pull over his mouth, coughing into the fabric, the icy chill pinching at his lungs a little at a time.
Ocula was no longer a ghost town, for many citizens were roaming the area. Solus could no longer tell if any of them were members of the Order of Helix, watching them gather herbs and materials to bring into their homes and shops rather than stand guard for any suspicious activity. Where many towns had fallen, he finally found one that seemed to develop in the five years that he was asleep and lost to the world.
He stopped in the local tavern to sit down, having been on his feet nonstop for the last few days. The mountain terrain was affected by heavy snowfall, and with barely any money left to pay for a room at the inn, he was left to pace himself and hike to the nearest town before the weather became too frosty for his liking. At least he’d made it out unscathed. Still, the weather was making him lightheaded, and he found comfort in the warmth of the tavern. Solus could barely bring himself to drink the whiskey he’d ordered.
“Usually people walk in here with heartbreak,” the burly, yet far from brashly toned bartender began. “Then again, you look like you’ve had your pick over many days.”
“My apologies,” Solus mumbled, rubbing his temples. “I travel frequently. I’m a bit exhausted.”
“If you’re having that much trouble, see the local physician,” the bartender told him, gesturing for the door after reclaiming the lukewarm booze. The bartender wrote down an address on a slip of paper and slid it in front of him. “Not very often that we get travelers from across the mountaintops. I’m sure that they wouldn’t mind taking you in for the night.”
“I don’t have much money,” Solus tried to reason.
“Tell the ladies that Hector sent you packing for the right reasons,” the man told him, shrugging as he dusted off the counter. “I’m sure that you’ll be able to slide if they have room.”
Solus followed the address to a large cottage a few blocks away from the tavern. He stepped inside to find a young woman with long brown hair braided down her back frantically running about the cottage tending to others in the vicinity before coming to a halt upon seeing the new arrival.
“I-I, um-”
She cut him off, “I take it that you’re here for treatment, or sleep.” There was a spark in her green eyes that lit his heart ablaze. “We’re currently full, and I’m not sure when we’ll have any openings. You’ll have to try again later.”
He held up the slip of paper. “I was told by Hector to come here.” The girl quickly snagged the sheet and looked over the handwriting for a few seconds, tearing it up and dropping the remains on the floor. Solus was confused but remained silent to avoid making a bad impression. She took Solus by the arm and wordlessly led him to the back of the cottage. “W-Where are we going?”
“Hector is the assistant manager to my sister’s tavern. If he sent you here, then he must have seen something in you, which means I’ve got to watch you.” She stopped walking and approached a closed door, knocking lightly on the wood.
“Occupied,” a woman called.
“I might have someone for you in a bit. Gonna be long with your paperwork?”
“Ten minutes max,” she replied. “Send your special someone to the waiting area, let them wait for me on the couch.” Solus raised an eyebrow.
“You heard the lady,” the brunette told him, pushing him forward slightly. “Waiting area is right around the corner. You’re welcome to lay down, read, whatever you feel like doing. Just don’t break anything, yeah? We’ve got a limited budget, I’d rather not lose anything unnecessarily.”
Solus watched her leave and ventured around the cottag
e once the girl was out of sight. There were several closed doors and each wall was painted white—this clinic was far roomier than most that he’d come across. As much as he wanted to explore the grounds, he lacked the energy, and stretched out on the couch, leaning back to face the ceiling. Footsteps snagged his attention, and at the end of the hall, he spotted a woman with scarlet hair pulled back into a bun, held together with a dark blue ribbon. Her dress reached her ankles, covered partway by a white coat to shield her from the winter air, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The air of familiarity was overwhelming for Solus, but he was more drawn to her dignified aura.
“My younger sister says that Hector sent you here,” she addressed him. “How may I help you today?”
“Needing a place to sleep,” he replied. The woman softly sighed and rolled her eyes.
“All right. I’ll listen since Luna sent you right to me. Come along. I’ll have to check you over before you come near any spare beds we get available.”
Luna. He pursed his lips in favor of following her, his mind spinning in overdrive. The redhead took him by the arm and pulled him up, almost dragging him back to her office. The structure resembled a full inpatient room, bed and all. Several tools were lined up on a table, cleaned and prepped for use.
“Have a seat, take off your coat and scarf,” she urged after closing the door. Solus removed most of his layers and was about to plop down into the chair across from her desk when she piped up, “Not there, silly, on the bed.” He brought himself to a halt and instead took comfort in the plush mattress, sighing. It had been some time since he’d had a real moment to sit.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” he said softly, to which the young physician laid a finger over his lips to silence him, smiling.
“No talking.” She cleaned off a brass thermometer, and he opened his mouth when she gestured for him to heed her command. After a couple of minutes and some usage of gathering her necessary materials, she snapped her fingers once and reclaimed her first instrument. “Good, no fever.” She reached up her hands to press against his neck. “Your sinuses and lymph nodes are fine… all right, the shirt comes off to mind your breathing patterns.”
Solus carefully peeled off his rather baggy shirt, mindful of the occasionally aching burns covering his back. He tugged on some of his hair to shift over his right shoulder, holding it in place while his physician stepped closer. She paused upon seeing the burn marks, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She couldn’t turn away from him, fixated on who would break first.
“I treated these,” she whispered, softly at first before repeating herself more evenly, trying to prove the fact to herself.
Solus decided to be the bigger person. “Something the matter, Sien?”
Sien lowered her hands to rest on the nightstand next to the bed, her emotions more aflutter than Solus’s racing heart. She pursed her lips, trying to gather her courage to speak. She straightened her back, folded her arms and then stood in front of him. She couldn’t keep track of her thoughts, so instead, she wrapped her arms around him.
“I thought that you were dead, all these years.” Solus laid a hand on her head, grinning softly. “When were you going to tell me the truth, Solus?”
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to,” he admitted.
“Why?” she pressed on, looking him in the eyes. “This is the first time that we’ve seen each other in five years… why wouldn’t you want to tell me that you’re alive?”
“There’s so much that’s happened since we were separated. I need you to tell me everything.”
“Of course.” But to contrast her words, she pushed him back onto the bed. “You can stay here. I’ll let Luna know.” Right as she opened the door, she met a tall man with ravenous hair pulled into a low ponytail, smirking at Sien while she caught her breath. “Erya, you’re back.”
“I was merely making a delivery, and no further than the next town over,” the man told her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Shame that you didn’t miss me enough to dive into my arms, dearest Sien.” Sien playfully rolled her eyes, scratching the man’s chin with her nail once. Solus peered over at the two, raising an eyebrow.
“You know that I can’t,” she warned him.
“Sien, who’s this?” Solus asked suddenly. Erya looked past Sien to face the man. Solus had his arms folded, unable to break his gaze from the new presence.
“New man in your life?” Erya joked, though his eyes were forlorn and scorned. Sien rolled her eyes, not fond of the sudden dominance circulating in the room.
“You remember the stories I’ve told you about when I traveled alongside Prince Remiel,” Sien began, laying a hand on Erya’s arm. “This was an ally of mine during the plight. His name is Solus Brenner.” Sien looked back at Solus. “Solus, my fiancé, Erya Kros.”
Solus was baffled. “You’re engaged. When on earth was this?”
“It’s been a month,” Erya said simply, gingerly running his fingers along the side of Sien’s face. Solus was shuddering to himself, finding the rather public overly affectionate behavior uncomfortable to witness. “We’ve been courting for a little over a year now.”
“So, you’ve been awake longer than me,” Solus mumbled.
“Awake,” Sien repeated. “You fell into a chasm, Solus. You certainly weren’t asleep.”
“What do you remember about that day we were separated?” Solus pressed on. “Because there isn’t much that I can recall.” Sien looked up at Erya, who was already flipping through a leather-bound journal, walking over to Solus and handing it to him.
“I’d rather you not strain her. I’m a scholar—I record everything that has significance in Adrylis and shape together documents. One day, they shall sit in the kingdom where they belong, but for now, they rest in your hands.” Erya returned to his betrothed’s side, laying a gentle kiss on her lips. “Come, Sien. You deserve a rest. I will help Luna continue caring for your patients.”
“Are you certain?” she asked with a sigh.
“I know how passionate you are about your work, but there is still the conflict of your current state,” he said softly. “Let me handle things. It wouldn’t be safe for either of you.”
“Very well then,” Sien said simply, stepping out after giving her fiancé a passing glance. Erya raised an eyebrow, smirking at her. Solus was trying to wrap his head around Erya’s subtle statements. Was Sien sick? No, his words weren’t singular, and it was evident by ‘either of you.’
“She’s pregnant,” Solus concluded after Erya took a seat across from the man’s bed.
“Four months now,” Erya confirmed. “She found out not long after I proposed to her. She’d denied it to herself for some time due to her lifestyle choices, but she truly has shown progress.” He folded his hands. “A lot has happened since your disappearance, Solus Brenner. More tales and laments than I could ever properly craft.”
Solus skimmed over bits and pieces of the journal. Sien hadn’t spared any details on what occurred during their journey before their sudden separation, and Erya didn’t leave a single one out. In the time that he was subjected to a deep slumber, Sien spent three years in catatonic sleep only to wake in a meadow. She had no memory prior to what dragged her into that state, much like Solus, but unlike him, she took immediate action to find her friends. Several months of traversing through Adrylis brought her no results, and her questions were shrouded in mystery.
“And that was when she came to Ocula,” Erya told him. “And how we met again—I was doing some research on the abandoned hospital, and we started up a conversation. She very much remembered me, for we met previously in Kinsley.”
“She did mention meeting a man in the tavern,” Solus recalled. “I don’t know how I didn’t put it together that it was you. Then again, you don’t seem the type to frequent taverns, opposite of her.” Erya almost smiled, hiding behind his conniving smirk.
Sien found a place in Ocula, and worked from scratch to revive the gho
st town, using it as a hub for the reunion of her allies should they return. She had all the necessary grounds to draw them in—a clinic, a tavern, and plenty of people that could help flourish the town’s development, all alongside her new beau. The growth drew the attention of local travelers, and gossip led Luna to her. Frequent travels over to Linarus allowed them to shape an alliance with the new chief, Lancett Lune.
“So Lancett is still alive,” Solus mumbled.
“He visits often,” Erya explained. “He and Sien have mutual respects for one another as leaders of reformed countries.”
“Then, he took over Sien’s duties in Linarus while she reshaped Ocula to make sure that we had some security? I admit, I didn’t think Lancett had the gall to oversee a farming town. It’s admirable given how short of a time he resided there.”
“The people of Linarus accepted him as though he had lived there his whole life,” Erya stated, folding his hands. “He found a home there, much like you found your place in Linmus, or how I have made my home here thanks to Sien’s guidance. Family can be found anywhere that you lay your hat.”
The statement struck a chord in Solus’s heart. Somano and Rira Vesarus were more than happy to have him in their court, and Cyril Brenner took him in after having barely known him, raising him to not only protect those that he cared for but to stand on his own two feet when he was alone. The road that he walked would soil his feet and burn his skin, but he would face it with pride and no room for a complaint. Then there was the family that he didn’t remember—Kinaju and Hinju, who sought for him to make a change for their disillusioned greater good.
Kinaju was different. Maybe he had the same mindset as Erya, to accept Solus as family despite the obvious odds against their relationship.