by W.O. Cassity
***
Talia was making her way back to the fort, hoping Dona would be there and all was clear when she returned. After a few missed attempts, she had managed to spear a rabbit. She had also managed to find plenty of nuts and some wild berries, so they would have plenty to eat this evening. After some rest, they could come up with a good plan and possibly be able to look for any villagers who may have escaped as they had.
Talia had not reached the divining age, when the Order required everyone to be presented so their paths could be documented. The information gathered isn’t shared with the subjects, but it allows the Order to prepare for pivotal future events. As the situations are documented, the Order forwards plans and prepares to eliminate unnecessary cruelty and meaningless destruction. Although no man or woman could escape their fate with destiny, many commoners with no calling upon them were able to avoid inescapable brutality, since it wasn’t required to fulfill their destiny at any specific time or event.
Talia believed she was ready to be divined as soon as possible, nevertheless, her father encouraged her to wait until his return. At summer’s end, he could present her to the Order for an early evaluation for enlistment. At the same time, she would also fulfill a Trial of Patience, a prerequisite to join the Order. Usually a Trial would require a greater level of difficulty, but her father had assured her holding until summer’s end would fulfill the condition based on what the Order had disclosed to him regarding his own divining. As an important figure, some crucial information regarding a member’s destiny may be given to them if it relates to their duties or family.
Things would have been so different if her father had been here. His connections within the Order would have allowed him to get a heads up on what was to come, and he could have prepared the village. He might have even avoided most of the unwanted bloodshed. No one had expected the Blood King to have passed at this time, with the exception of the Seering Council, the utmost inner circle of the Order. She was frustrated the Order sat idly by and did nothing. When she finally joined the Order, she wanted to pursue peacekeeping, not politics.
According to her father, Gregethor, the Blood King, Draenar, was once a member of the Seering Council more than seven hundred years ago. The Prime Seer of that time had cast him out and labeled him as a heretic. Her father also told her Draenar believed only the chosen few were destined for great things and all other prophesy was make-believe to control the masses by fear. In retaliation, the prophecy of the “Heir of the Blood King” was made public.
No one knew who the Blood King was at the time. Draenar returned to his home in the bountiful plains of Ruiderien where his older brother, Rastan, sat on the kingdom’s throne. The reign of his brother was cruel, where his subjects were forced into servitude. Gregethor recounted the rumors from the Seering Council archives which stated Draenar had brought shame to his brother and was then banished from his home kingdom.
More than twenty years passed before Draenar returned to his ancestral home, but he did not return alone. for he brought an army with him. As Rastan’s overwhelming forces were brought down, Draenar used a long-lost artifact to resurrected the fallen dead, turning them against his brother as well.
Draenar also called lighting and fire from the skies, laying ruin upon the lands surrounding Ruiderian as his undead army marched on Rastan’s stronghold. After slaying his elder brother, the people labeled him the “Blood King” for the parricide of his sibling, as well as the necromancy he used to summon his undead army.
The scorched keep dwelling in the sunless skies of the smoldering lands became known as Cindermoor, the kingdom of the Blood King, which rested only a five-day march south from Riverside. Her father said the magical fires from the great battle still burned in the deep marshes. The moors were also inhabited by otherworldly denizens, which were held by the dark curses Draenar cast against his treacherous brother.
Once Draenar discovered he was the ruler prophesied by the Seering Council, the Blood King set out to thwart their political agenda by delving deeper into the dark arts of necromancy, and attempting to unlock the secrets of life, death, and rebirth. He began by studying the ancient device he had unearthed to defeat his brother’s armies. As his knowledge progressed, he studied how the same resurrection magic which could bring back the dead could also be used to heal the living. During his experimentations, people from across the Eleven Kingdoms came to him for a touch of his warm healing hands. If he could find a way to never die, the prophecy of the Order would never be fulfilled, thus discrediting his adversaries.
Draenar formed a council of his own who were devoted to the studies of necromancy. They became more commonly known as the Cult of Draenar for their mindless devotion to their leader. The Cult also tended to the daily operations of Cindermoor and the lands under their control. Their spy network was considered to be vast. Gregethor had been sent often to solicit treatises with Draenar’s acolytes on behalf of the Order while the Blood King remained locked inside his laboratory, deep below the keep’s surface. She prayed to the Fates her father was there in Cindermoor now, pleading for mercy for the survivors of Riverside.
In the west, the sun was rapidly moving toward the safety of the horizon, and the last fleeting moments of daylight defiantly danced away to paint the clouds brilliant shades of pink and orange. Talia needed to return to the fort so they could cook the rabbit, and then extinguish the fire quickly. A campfire would leave them visible for miles in the twilight hour, but it was a necessary risk if they wanted to eat the rabbit.
As she broke into the small clearing at the edge of the forest, a ridge of deep brown dirt partially blocked her view of the fort. Just over the earthen ridge, she could see Donadeir’s head bobbing and weaving. An initial moment of panic overwhelmed her, and her first thought was he must be engaged against an enemy. She held herself back a moment to observe what she could, instead of blindly rushing forward. After a few moments, she realized Dona’s movements were routine and regular, indicating to her there was no immediate threat.
Talia slowly made her way forward where she could observe whatever it was Dona was doing. Upon her approach, she was pleasantly surprised to see he had taken up his spear in his hands as if it were a staff and was using it to engage a small tree nearby. He was practicing striking the tree high and low, becoming familiar with how to move while wielding the weapon. In several instances, he began to follow through using the spear as a pike to strike his target, varying his technique, perhaps most of it mimicking some of the moves she herself had made in the past while training with her father. Donadeir would often times stop and silently watch her when she trained and then go on about his business.
It felt good to be here with her old friend instead of battling all of this alone. She was quite surprised in spite of all of Donadeir’s decadence, he came across as determined and optimistic about their current predicament. Most others, who were spoiled in the way Donadeir was, would have already become a nuisance, complaining about being uncomfortable or outright expecting preferential treatment. Donadeir had accepted her lead and had done what he could in order to keep them united. She couldn’t ask for more. Talia also noticed he was no longer favoring his injured leg. This meant they might not have to stay put for as long as she expected. She once again was grateful she wasn’t alone. Dona needed her, and that felt good. She would keep them both safe.
When Talia stepped into Donadeir’s view, she watched as he immediately stopped and a large smile covered his face, making him look like a buffoon. She could see he was not only pleased to see her again, but his eyes widened when he noticed the rabbit she carried with her they could eat. She was relieved to know he was safe and in good spirit.
“I was hoping you would hunt something down for us to cook, so I was prepared,” Donadeir said as he pointed to a small stack of firewood he had collected. He had dug a small hole using the ends of some of the sticks to conceal any fire they needed to start. “I would have started the fire, but I didn’t have
any flint or steel.”
“Oh, I have some in my pouch,” Talia replied. “Being prepared with the basics is always what Father taught me.” She retrieved the flint and steel from her side pouch and handed them over to Donadeir, who began working to start the fire. She removed her other carrying pouch and dumped the contents of nuts and berries into a small pile nearby. She then sat down and began using the end of the sword to cut away at the rabbit to prepare it for the fire.
Darkness began to descend upon them quickly, as they waited for the rabbit to finish cooking over the fire pit. Talia curiously watched Donadeir, who skewered it on a couple of the sticks he had gathered, rotating it every so often. Sitting next to her, he would absentmindedly reach for some of the nuts and berries, careful not to eat too many so she had plenty to eat too. If she had been anyone else in the kingdom, he would have probably wolfed down as much of it as he could before anyone else could take it away. This was good though, because she could tell Dona was trying to be less selfish. She began to see he was becoming the good person she had known once as her childhood friend.
While sharing the rabbit, Talia saw Donadeir tried to be sure she had more. She was, after all, the one who caught it. She, however, was more concerned about Donadeir fully recovering and kept pushing what she didn’t eat back to him. She could tell he was hungry because he had eaten most of the berries and nuts, despite the fact it was obvious he was trying to portion himself. The rest, fresh food, and water worked as intended, and they were able to clear their heads enough to come up with a plan. She thought of heading back to the stream to drink again but decided against it for now. There was no need to draw the unnecessary attention from any predators that may be lurking about.
The fire pit they had built was rather small, so it was easy to cover up and extinguish the fire. Both Talia and Donadeir sat quietly in the dark as they watched the moon rise out of the east. The air was cool and crisp, so they moved in closer against the logs of their old play place, blocking the light wind, which began to blow and clear what little smoke still lingered about from the fires of the village.
“Thank you,” Donadeir said matter of factly.
“For what?” Talia inquired.
“Without you, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t be fed, and I’d be lost,” Donadeir responded.
“You are here because it is what Fate has divined for you, Dona,” Talia retorted. “I’m grateful, my friend, the Fates found me worthy to be a part of your destiny, and I’m glad I do not have to face this alone.”
“So what is the plan?” Donadeir inquired.
“Tonight, we rest. You are getting around better tonight than you were before, so food and rest is important. On our journey ahead, we might not get a break like this. In the morning, we will head down to the stream and clean up. I can also show you where I found the nuts and berries so you can get us a supply.”
Donadeir nodded in reply to her suggestions.
Talia continued, “While you are gathering, I’ll make my way carefully back to the village to see where it stands. We need to know if the Blood King’s guards have established an operations camp there, or if they have moved on. If possible, I’ll try to see if I can gather us some supplies. At the very least, I hope I can find a couple of sacks so we can carry any provisions we manage to scavenge. A knife and some basic tools would also be good. If we are lucky, we may even be able to scavenge up some gutstring from the tanner’s shop. He used the water well tree as a place to dry them. With those, I can fashion us a bow to make hunting easier.”
“If you find some sacks,” Donadeir interjected, “look at my family’s place. Even with the fires, some of the smaller pots should have survived. We throw the caster iron into fire pits for seasonal cleaning, so a house fire shouldn’t have destroyed them.”
Talia observed the sudden change in Donadeir’s face as he thought about his family.
“When everything began in the village, my parents had already settled in bed for the night. I had stepped out, curious to see what was happening, but they didn’t follow,” Donadeir continued. “I remember we passed back by the shop when we were trying to escape.”
Talia saw Donadeir’s pain consuming him. He may be self-absorbed most of the time, but she knew he always rushed to his parents for coddling whenever there was any kind of trouble. In a way, the connection he had with his parents was one of the reasons she had kept her distance from him when she wasn’t with her father. As much as Donadeir bragged about what his mother was always doing for him, it made her heart ache when she thought of the loss of her own mother. Donadeir had no family anymore, and she still had her father. Life without her father seemed unfathomable and meaningless. Her heart ached for her dear friend. She placed her arm upon his shoulder and rubbed Dona’s head. Talia worried when he didn’t seem to notice.
She felt Donadeir as he pulled away from her. Talia knew he felt embarrassed as he rushed to wipe the tears from his eyes which had begun to form and fall down his cheek.
“So get the pots if you can and any utensils you find,” Donadeir sighed and inhaled deeply as he tried to snap out of the thoughts about his parents. “I can take a meal like the rabbit we ate and stretch it further with potatoes, carrots, and the like. Plus, we can use the pots to bring water back here from the stream.”
“That’s a good idea, Dona,” Talia replied in soft tone. She could see he was trying hard to hide his solemn disposition. She knew he was not thinking about the business at hand as he tried to avoid his grief.
Donadeir continued, “But I think we need a bigger plan. Although I like it here, we can’t stay for very long. We have no shelter, and if someone connected to the Blood King comes through, we could be in grave danger.”
“Well,” Talia followed up, “when we have sufficient supplies ready, we can head to Corronest where my father is stationed with the Order. They should offer us sanctuary and shelter, even if he has been deployed to Cindermore or elsewhere.”
“Do you remember when I was away, last summer’s end?” Donadeir expression returned to a smile at the mention of Corronest. “My family and I spent three weeks in Corronest visiting my father’s family.”
“Yes, I do remember you being away, Dona,” Talia answered.
“There were so many amazing sights to see. Musicians and artists from all over the Eleven Kingdoms,” Donadier reminisced. “And the food, Talia, oh god, the food. I can’t wait to show you around so you can taste all of the exotic foods there. I could live in Corronest forever, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
“Let’s get some rest, tomorrow is going to be a big day,” Talia laughed. “Sounds to me like you found something pleasant to dream about.”
“You have no idea the treats in store for you, Talia,” Donadeir smiled.
Unlike the night before, Donadeir didn’t fall asleep right away as Talia had expected. She watched over him as he tossed and turned trying to settle, Talia could only imagine how difficult it must be for him to wrestle with losing his whole family in one night. She missed her father so much. He would know how to comfort Dona. Talia watched over her friend, praying his dreams would give him more time with those he had lost.