by D N Meinster
"We've already met," the man said.
Doren squinted trying to place the man. As he scrutinized him, he realized the blotch on his cheek wasn't a birthmark. It was Neanthal's symbol.
Vezeo was in the same brown and orange getup that he had had on during their last meeting. His wiry black hair stood straight up, and despite his coarse skin and chapped lips, his demeanor was rather friendly. Though the Thalians accompanying him clutched onto the objects they considered weapons, in his hands there was only a wide-brimmed hat.
"Hey!" Yveen shouted when she noticed the intruders. She stomped over to rejoin Doren. "That's mine."
Vezeo held out the hat for her. "I found it floating in the wind."
She snatched it and put it back on her head.
"I knew I would find its owner if we headed whence it came." He nodded toward Yveen. "And here you are."
"So what do you want from me?" she asked, tapping on the mace at her hip.
"We're looking for someone," Vezeo replied. "Your friend here knows him."
"Jient?" Doren guessed.
"Yes," Vezeo said. "He's been gone too long. And he can't take care of himself. We figured he might've finally gotten himself lost. So we're out here looking for him. Have you seen him?"
Doren shook his head and then looked to Yveen.
"'Fraid there's been no one new around here 'cept for these hooded bastards that burned my camp and killed my friend. Your Jient wouldn't happen to be one of them, would he?"
"Jient wears a beak, not a hood."
"A beak?" Yveen said. "What is he? A Phodos?"
"Actually, yes," Vezeo replied. "But he's not all there. We're very concerned that he's gone missing. He needs us, as we need him."
"There is not one living Phodos left in Ghumai," Yveen said.
"There is. He was blessed by Neanthal. He's over three hundred years old. And he's not even a mage!" Vezeo sniffled after reciting the astounding facts.
"If that were true, he's got a better claim to the empire than either of the Korona brothers."
This caused Vezeo to laugh. "He cannot rule. But he's important to us. Which is why we're here."
"Well, I haven't seen him either," Yveen stated.
Doren kept his shield up while Yveen and Vezeo spoke. They may have appeared less dangerous than the Roamers, but they were still Thalians. They worshipped Neanthal. If they had any idea what he and his friends were doing, they would try to stop them. For all he knew, this was a front. Their last encounter had gone very badly. This could be a revenge mission disguised as a search. Whether Jient was Phodos or not was moot. Was he really who they were looking for?
"You can move along," Doren strongly suggested. If they left peacefully, maybe he would believe them.
Vezeo tilted his head. Was he hesitating or did he not believe them?
Yveen must have wondered the same, for her hand was tightly gripping her mace.
Vezeo looked to his companions before nodding. "We shall. We don't want to lose the light."
"May Magenine's light point you true," Yveen said.
Doren couldn't hold in his guffaw. His laugh was so loud it startled some nearby birds.
Vezeo was not so amused. "So childish. Tell me, are you a Magenite or some ancestor-worshipping zealot?"
Yveen didn't have a chance to answer. One in Vezeo's company dropped down and pressed an ear against the ground. "They're coming. We need to leave."
"Who's coming?" Doren asked.
But the Thalians didn't bother to answer. They ran like they were being chased by King Fogg the Third's Thalian hunters.
Doren turned to Yveen when they were out of sight. "Should we be concerned?" And then he felt it: a slight rumble in the earth. It was hardly noticeable at first, but its intensity increased with each passing minute.
"Get everyone on a velizard!" Yveen shouted to her men. She grabbed Doren's arm and tugged him toward her own velizard. "We need to leave."
"What's going on?" Doren asked. He got the sense that this was more than a tremor. What could cause the ground to shake in such a way?
Yveen climbed onto the back of her velizard and then held out a hand for Doren. She pulled him up and he situated himself behind her.
As the quake became worse, it brought with it an unfamiliar noise. "What is that?" Doren cried out.
The answer was already right in front of them. Hundreds of men were marching into their camp. No, not hundreds. Thousands. They all took their steps together, shaking the earth with each lurch forward. No matter which way Doren looked, he saw only soldiers, in their matching golden pads, as they overtook the area and blocked any way to escape.
"We go out fighting!" Yveen barked, and she raised her mace into the air.
Her gang was less enthusiastic about giving their lives for this conflict. None bothered to draw their weapons or even point their crossbows. Instead, they either remained motionless or raised their arms in surrender.
Doren didn't intend to go out this way either. He had a grudging respect for Yveen, but he had no quarrels with the Emperor and greater deeds to accomplish. This was her battle, not his.
The earthquake and the stomping sounds ceased at the same time. All the soldiers came to a stop, and they broke ranks to let their leader pass through the throng.
Emperor Luewen was the only one moving, and he stopped when he reached Lady Yveen. "Lady Yveen Ethera," he said. "You've been causing an awful amount of trouble for my empire." Every soldier in the vicinity pointed their pikes and swords at her. "And Prince Doren. I thought I'd find you in chains, not riding with my enemy."
Doren wondered how Luewen knew he'd find him here. Only Aros would have been able to tell him. Aros? He frantically searched the rows of nearby soldiers for his friend. He even thought he might have heard someone shouting his name, but he figured he was imagining it.
Yveen spat at the Emperor from atop her velizard.
Luewen ignored the spiteful gesture and gazed around her camp. "I see someone else got to you before I could. At least they left you alive. Get down from there."
When Yveen refused to obey the order, the Emperor sent three soldiers to drag her down from her velizard. She swatted at them with her mace, but they pulled it away from her with ease and yanked her from her position.
Doren provided her no assistance. He merely looked on as they hauled her before the Emperor and held her up as he addressed her.
"For your crimes against the empire, you should die," Luewen stated. "But these are not normal times. You have not joined my brother, which makes you less of a traitor than half of Faunli. So I give you a choice. Fight for me and you will be a free woman. When the war is over, I promise to return that which I've taken. Or die, right here, right now, along with the rest of your gang of ternij. Or what's left of them, I should say."
Yveen turned her eye to Doren, as if asking what she should do.
Doren knew she would die for her honor, but he did not want her to die. And the Emperor was offering to give her back her land. She would not get a better deal than that. So Doren nodded, hoping she interpreted that as a sign to take the deal, not die for her cause.
Yveen struggled out of the soldiers' grasp. For a moment, she was standing freely. But then she dropped to her knees. "If your pledge is good, then so is mine. I will serve you until the end of the war, or my last breath. And so will my men."
Luewen touched her shoulder. "I am glad to have your support." He turned away, having achieved his objective. But as he started moving between the ranks, he stopped. "Oh, let the boy come forward."
A line of soldiers stepped away from each other, creating a path for this boy to get through. He ran through the masses with an excited speed, and when he saw Doren, he smiled at him.
Doren smiled right back at Aros. His friend appeared to be in fairly decent health, despite having been recently left for dead. He wore a black shirt that Doren hadn't seen before, and something glistened from around his neck, but he was otherwise the
same.
"Doren," Aros called out.
"Aros." Doren slid down from the back of the velizard.
The rest of the soldiers had no interest in the reunion. They began marching onward to wherever Luewen was leading them. The ground began to shake again, but Doren ignored it. He ran up to Aros, and for a moment, he thought they might embrace. But they didn't go so far. There was still an awkwardness between them, no matter how glad they were to find one another.
Aros ran a hand through his hair. "So..."
Doren crossed his arms. "I was afraid you were dead."
He forced a giggle. "I'm not."
"Look, Aros," Doren started.
And then they blurted it out at the same time. "I'm sorry!"
"No," Doren said. "It's my fault. I knew what you were going through. I should've accepted your first apology. Just because you're hurting doesn't mean you're broken. And it definitely doesn't mean you should have to lock yourself away. You're supposed to be here."
"But I was broken," Aros interjected. "I mean, I still am, in a lot of ways. But I shouldn't have attacked you. I shouldn't have tried to desert you. I should've fought my grief instead of allowing it to consume me."
"It's okay to grieve!" Doren replied. "I pushed you too hard, when I knew better. Leidess deserves every bit you're feeling for her. A real friend wouldn't have tried to rush you through it all."
"This whole thing is bigger than me," Aros said. "I let my problems interfere."
For a few moments, Doren didn't add anything. They looked at each other but declined to speak. They were both to blame, in certain ways. Yet Doren knew he had made the whole situation worse than it should have been.
"I almost got you killed," Doren muttered.
"You didn't shoot that arrow," Aros replied.
"I might as well have." He glanced at the slight bulge around Aros' shoulder. "Did you tend to it yourself?"
"Nope," Aros said. "But there is an interesting story there. If you want to hear it, I mean."
"Of course," Doren said, and he held out a hand for Aros. "You're my friend. I won't forget it for the rest of our journey."
Aros grabbed hold of Doren's hand. "And I won't do something stupid for the entire time." When he let go, he added. "Okay, I can't promise that. But I won't attack you. I swear."
Doren chuckled. "That's good enough for me."
"This is so heartwarming."
Doren and Aros both shot a look at Lady Yveen, who was standing mere inches from them.
"I pledge myself to a man I've hated for years, while you two get a chipper reunion," Yveen whined.
"You could have let him decapitate you," Doren suggested.
"No thanks." Yveen strolled over to the side of her velizard and stuffed her hands into a brown pouch tied to its side. She returned to the duo seconds later with the two clawblades in her grasp. Aros ogled them.
"I haven't had a chance to sell them yet," Yveen sighed. She held them out for Aros but focused on Doren. "This makes us even."
Doren nodded while Aros took possession of his curved blades.
"You know what," Aros said. "I would really like it if I never had to use these again." He slipped them onto the magnetic holders on his back.
"Me too," Doren replied.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sacred Rites
Rikki hadn't found Doren or Aros yet, mainly because she hadn't been looking. Her plan had been to shift to every village and every landmark until she found them. She would've asked whoever she came across if they'd seen these two Kytheran males wandering the landscape. And when she finally found them, she would tell them how simple it would be to retrieve the Key now that she could shift. As long as they consented, she would take the Key from Kuwain before he even realized she was there. With their goal in Faunli complete, they could leave this kingdom to endure their wars without foreign involvement. She was confident it would've worked, if she hadn't run into Lady Simma mere moments after her return to the present.
Lady Simma. The warrior who had caught Doren's attention and who had begged Rikki for her help. She was not fond of the woman, but she couldn't bring herself to abandon her. Rikki agreed to provide assistance; to get more deeply involved in Faun affairs than she already had. The potential for her to save lives was too high. No matter her personal feelings, if she could prevent carnage, she would.
Unfortunately, this greatly delayed her mission to find her friends. Lady Simma was more than willing to ask for a mage's aid to accomplish her own ends. But try to make her shift, and she would protest and stall until a certain mage got the hint. For someone who didn't like magic, Simma was markedly relying on it.
Doren and Aros were on their own, unless they ran into them on the way back to Radite. Simma was going to make one last appeal to Luewen, and if she failed, threaten to reveal his deepest secret. This could've been done days ago, if they weren't making their way back on foot.
Rikki ran her fingers through Ji-Ji's fur. She was glad to have him with her. Simma was not pleasant company, for whenever they started speaking, Rikki inevitably brought up that they could shift to their destination quite easily. And that, in turn, led to a prolonged argument that only multiple whistles from her denhare could bring to an end.
Simma was also preventing Rikki from finding Jient and restoring his soul, but that she didn't mind as much. Having an intelligent denhare at her side was proving to be beneficial, and having an excuse to keep him that way was equally so.
"Can we stop over there and get some food that doesn't grow on trees?" Rikki asked, pointing to a village in the distance. She had been living on berries since she got back, and would have preferred dining on anything else.
"That village is deserted," Simma replied, gazing back at Rikki as if she was happy she wouldn't get what she wanted.
"Ugh," Rikki groaned. "Why is that?"
"It is the birthplace of the first Emperor of Faunli," Simma told her. "Neanthal demolished it not long after he took over the empire. It was rebuilt after the Liberation, but loyal Thalians kept attacking its inhabitants. So it was abandoned. No one has lived there since."
"Like I didn't have enough reasons to hate Neanthal." Rikki gazed longingly at the village as they passed by it, heading in the direction of more fields and trees. When she had arrived in Faunli, she thought she would never tire of the sight. Her time there had proven her initial assumption wrong. She missed the maze of streets and deluge of sand in Kytheras. She had barely gotten to enjoy her freedom there before heading to another land. There were so many different shops to try, with a variety of baked goods and unusual cuisine. And she had only made it to one.
Rikki took a glimpse at the abandoned village again and paused. She thought she saw someone move within.
"Isn't it abandoned?" Rikki asked, pointing toward where she'd seen someone move. It had to be a someone, right? There's no way it could be another soul without a body.
Simma took a few steps toward the village. "No one dares live there now. It's reserved strictly for the use of the Korona family."
"Why?"
"I'll show you," Simma replied, heading towards it.
They did not need another postponement. "You could simply tell me," Rikki said, catching up to her. For a second, she considered grabbing onto Simma and forcing her to shift. Time was in Hatswick's favor the more she and her friends spent of it in Faunli. However, she couldn't bring herself to do it to the Lady, perhaps because she had never shifted with a second person before and she didn't want to try it out on someone who was already inclined to despise magic.
Rikki had suspected they'd find the abandoned settlement in comparable condition to the Outer back in Kytheras. But as they came up upon the first structure, she was struck by what she saw. It was not made of deteriorating wood or stone, like she had supposed, but various shades of a translucent material. Crystal. The entire town was made of it, from the roofs to the doorways. And all different colors, so that from a distance, it would look
normal.
"Amazing," Rikki said in awe of the place.
"When it was rebuilt, they did it entirely in crystal, in honor of the Phodos dynasty," Simma stated. "People once actually lived here. Can you imagine changing in one of these nearly see-through homes?" To demonstrate, Simma walked into the nearest domicile and shut the door. She was more of a distorted shadow on the other side than a perfect representation of herself. This wasn't glass. Yet she had made her point.
"What does your family use it for now?" Rikki asked.
Simma exited the crystal home. "It's a site of pilgrimage for the Emperor." She placed a hand on the precious walls and continued. "After my father died, Luewen was required to come here for the sacred rites. By tradition, he must travel alone, and to keep from being recognized on the way, he must be disguised. Luewen draped himself in rags and came as a beggar."
"How can rites be performed in an abandoned village?" Rikki asked.
"I'm getting to that," Simma snapped. "My brother had to live here for three days, spending his entire time praying to our ancestors. He is not allowed to eat or sleep. On the third night, the souls of our ancestors emerge from these crystal houses and bestow on him the wisdom of all prior emperors."
Rikki felt a chill shoot up her back. Maybe she did see a soul moving amongst the homes.
"I've always felt that after three days without food or sleep, you're bound to start seeing things," Simma said. "So the sacred rites are more hallucination influenced by expectations. But my brother swears he saw our forebears on his third night here. I say, if that's true, it's more likely to be a mage's trick." She eyed Rikki suspiciously.
"You don't think I had something to do with that?" she asked, aghast at the accusation.
"You or Hatswick." Simma closed in on Rikki. "Magic is a cruel joke on those of us who have beliefs that differentiate from you Magenites. You see it as proof of your faith. It makes it easy to discount ideas such as ours."
"Fauns and Kytherans both believed in the connection between stars and the afterlife," Rikki said, standing her ground. "I see different paths to the same beliefs. The Great Bastion is inclusionary, not exclusionary. All Ghumaic inhabitants end up there."