by S C Gowland
The loss of Morveen and Jayk, even using their names was enough to tighten his chest and make his heart shudder. Even after all this time those two words had an effect unlike any other.
Losing his wife, Morveen, had been devastating news, but to lose his firstborn son Jayk at the same time had been cruelty itself, and almost too much to bear. Their faces flashed through his mind, his vision blurred with light, he steadied himself, fingers grasping blindly for the side of the ship.
Hard, damp wood. He heaved in breaths, gulping them down.
He stood still for a moment.
It had only been the thought of his two young daughters that had stopped him doing something much more serious.
Their young faces flashed through his head, eyes wide, slack jawed, faces concentrating on his every words. There had been no tears, but this had only made it worse. Hard reality, hard faces, at least on the surface.
He clasped his other hand to his mouth, squeezing his eyes closed and swallowed.
He hadn’t been there for Morveen and Jayk.
And they had been taken from him.
They had left that morning, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.
He hadn’t even told his wife that he loved her. It was something small, but it was also something that he made sure he did every day. Three simple words that meant so much – I love you – taken for granted, but not said on that final day or since.
He had gone through thousands of hours, recounting what could have been different about that day.
What if he had said it?
What if he had been there?
What if he had protested more fiercely and gone in her place?
What if he had not been convinced by Morveen to let her lead the group to Rynk?
He gripped the side of the ship, knuckles whitening, muttering to himself.
Jayk was not ready, they all knew it. But Kaoldan had pushed, badgering Kubrean, pulling in favour wherever and however he could to fulfil his son’s wish. Kubrean had reluctantly approved it and Morveen would be there, what could go wrong?
Everything was the answer.
His jaw tensed as he worked well-trodden thoughts out of his mind.
From a group of twenty-four Walkers there had been only two survivors.
Gythe, a Grey Walker of some reputation. No fool. Tough. Reliable. She had been injured, lucky to make it back at all, but she had also saved Ramazi the Paragon Master of the Walker Order.
He had been more seriously injured, but she had been able to rescue him and return them both safely to Zaeng all the way from Rynk.
They had sent larger group to discover what had happened.
Forty Walkers, including Kaoldan, Zalen and Kubrean, grim and determined to ascertain what had happened.
The ravine they found was a ruin of bodies.
So many bodies. Burnt, blooded, ripped apart. Scattered, like leaves in the autumn, hidden amongst bushes, in pools of water, slumped against trees.
He had found Morveen and Jayk - bodies broken - close to each other, shields shattered, pinned against a shear rock face. They had been trapped, no chance of escape. Killed like animals. Blood, so much blood.
The thought of it still gripped his heart with icy cold dread. The look on their faces peaceful, like they were simply frozen. With a trembling hand he had closed their eyes, unable to deal with the accusing looks they gave him.
He had been forced to bury them in the valley, in the shade of a tree; they would have approved. The soil had been so black, sticky, and difficult to move. He remembered their faces before wrapping them in their cloaks. Asleep, at peace. The whole experience surreal, as if it were happening to somebody else.
Given the evidence they found; footprints, broken weapons, and the tattered remains of clothing from Thodar. It was simply a case of them being surprised and overwhelmed.
And yet this explanation, accepted by the Grey Council and the Paragon Master of the Walker Order at that time, did not sit well with Kaoldan.
Morveen was experienced, wise, cautious. She would never had entered such a ravine without taking some kind of precautions. She would never have let their guard slip so badly.
Would she?
The truth was that they would never know, and this unsatisfactory answer sat ill at ease with Kaoldan, it poisoned his thoughts and tore into his mind. Creating more questions, more what-ifs, hundreds of scenarios played out in his head and in his dreams, but they were never accompanied by any answers.
Over time he had compartmentalised these voices, but they still came back now and then, haunting him. At the time he had instead chosen to do the only thing within his control. At that time, safety was the priority. Making sure that the girls were safe.
Safe from the world. And safe from him.
He feared, given the grief that had overwhelmed him, that he would be of no use to them. So, it made sense that the girls should be elsewhere. Far away, but well protected and well catered for.
Vanguard provided the perfect location. The safest place in the kingdom of Athos. The girls would be surrounded by people and surroundings he trusted, and they would also have something to focus on - learning the Way of the Walker.
All agreed with the decision; Kubrean, Nova and Tokel.
Ultimately, it had been Kaoldan's choice, and it was not one he had until now regretted.
His decision to stay away from Vanguard had also been a choice.
But the more time passed the harder it became.
How could he face them?
What could he do? Simply arrive at the gates, say hello and pretend everything was the same as before? No.
He knew that Vanguard was the right place, but his decision to not visit them had gnawed away at him. He had changed his mind. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of times. Visit. Don't visit. But it was a prospect that offered him no joy, only suffocating fear. He had justified the decision. Told himself that the girls seeing him again was only a reminder of what they had lost. It would hurt them again. But this was an argument that now seemed pathetically weak. Selfish thoughts. Cowardly thoughts if he was truly honest. Now, it appeared that the decision to send them away and his decision not to visit had compounded problems.
He had done it for various reasons, but also because it was the best thing for him. He was a Red Walker, so had certain responsibilities or so he had told himself. In truth it surrounded himself with things that he was comfortable with places, faces, tasks that were easy. He buried himself in them, time had passed quickly and quietly.
He couldn't blame Romina for her hostility. He did still see those two young girls, in need of protection, in need of guidance. His world had been changed, turned upside down by forces outside of his control, how was their situation any different?
In truth it was not.
He raised his hand to his head and pinched the top of his nose.
The fact they had completed their training so soon, and to such praise and celebration had been a source of pride to him. But it also meant an end to a selfishly convenient arrangement.
The biggest problem was that he had a relationship with them that was out of date. He had not changed, they had and wonderfully so. His relationship with them, his strength had lain in that he knew what to do, or at least appeared to. He was the adult, they the children. Now he was the adult and they too adults. He no longer had the upper hand of experience, of being certain what he was doing was correct.
Parenthood was, he had discovered very early on, the hardest job in the world. Children feel safe if they are confident in the abilities of those around them. It was perfectly possible to not know everything, but to put on a brave face and to work it out as you went along. This wasn’t the case anymore.
He did not know what to do.
He did not know what to say.
He did not know how to act, and they saw straight through any pretence he had had tried to create such confidence or even bluff his way through it. He had never really known his parents; they had
died when he was young. He had never known the value and wonder of family until he and Morveen had created their own. It brought him more love and joy than he had ever thought possible.
He had taken to the role of father with ease, despite his fears. He had been patient when needed, firm, loving and understanding. This all gave him the confidence that he knew what he was doing. Take that away and what was he now?
A man lost.
A shell of a man.
A man with a family in name only.
He had to speak to them, his heart sank, and he chewed at the inside of his cheek as he stared out at the blue, black, green waves that rolled and crashed around the ship.
‘I'd like to ask where you are,’ said a voice bringing him back to reality. ‘But I fear where that might be.’
Kaoldan turned to see Zalen stood wrapped in his red travellers’ cloak, wind whipping through his hair, he took a step forward to stand beside his friend
‘I think I know where you are now.’ he said looking out to the sea, avoiding, Kaoldan's eyes. ‘One of the things I've always admired about you, probably more than anything else has been your devotion to your family. You would do anything for them, absolutely anything. The loss of Morveen and Jayk changed that.’
Their names pressed down upon Kaoldan’s shoulders like a pair of rocks and he held his hand up, but Zalen continued.
‘It also changed you, but I knew you’d be ok. You had a strength within you and a clarity of thought that many others would not have had. It was the right thing to do to send them to Vanguard.’ he nodded, somehow able to read his friend's mind.
Kaoldan stood still, taking in the waves and listened.
‘You shouldn’t regret that; I would have done the same if I'd been in your shoes.’ he conceded with a nod. ‘Having them brought back into your life after such a long time was not exactly something you chose. Again, you showed strength.’
Kaoldan swallowed, throat dry.
‘Since then…’ Zalen frowned, paused.
‘The girls have needed you, but you’ve not been there. You are a family, you belong together. It is something you cannot avoid any more.’ he looked towards Kaoldan and then away quickly.
‘I've never worried about you,’ he said, eyes serious, ‘Never. Even after the deaths, even after the losses. I knew you'd get through as I knew the girls will get through it. This is the first time I am worried about you and them.’ said Zalen solemnly.
‘You seem cracked,’ said Zalen seeming to struggle to find the right words. ‘I can’t really say I know what has changed, but you just seem broken, scared and that's something I've never seen before.’ He took a deep breath and gently rested his hand on Kaoldan's shoulder.
Kaoldan couldn't help himself.
His head fizzed, his nose ached and then the tears came. They swelled in his eyes as his shoulders hunched and his chest heaved.
Tears rolled slowly down his cheek mixing with the spray from the sea. Cold and warm saltwater mingling together. He sniffed loudly, wiping his face. He folded his arms across his chest, feet shuffling, body squirming.
‘What can I do?’ he stammered ‘What can I possibly say to them that will make things better? Make the world right. I failed them. It is that simple. I failed to protect them.’ he felt lightheaded, swallowing again.
‘Nonsense,’ said Zalen ‘you have protected them. You have protected them from this world, but perhaps too much so. And what you say doesn't really matter.’ he said, squeezing Kaoldan shoulder. ‘As long as you do say something and soon.’ said Zalen.
He patted his old friend on the back affectionately, he looked to Kaoldan, his face serious, he chewed his lip as the ship lurched.
Kaoldan frowned.
‘You know, I've seen you face down all sorts of horrible things. We fought together against incredible odds on several occasions I wasn't even sure that we would survive.’ he raised his eyebrows. ‘But we did. Somehow, we always found a way through. You were never scared of anything, never fazed by anything, not monsters, not the Krund, not by our enemies, but you seem scared now.’ he frowned.
‘It’s a side of you have never seen before, and that is what really worries me and in turn that's what scares me.’ he said. ‘I'm not sure what I would say now, especially to anyone looking to me for some sort of guidance or counselling.’
A small wry smile crept onto Kaoldan’s face.
‘It must be difficult being a father.’ said Zalen. ‘I'm almost jealous. I'd love to be in your shoes to have what you have, difficult though it may be. You've always guided and advised me when I've needed it and I'll be failing in my responsibilities to you if I didn't say this to you now.’ he stared at Kaoldan, deep into his eyes unflinching.
He cleared his throat. ‘It is better to do something than live with the fear of it.’
Kaoldan raised his eyebrows.
‘I know.’ said Zalen with a smirk. ‘Deep. I read it somewhere.’
Kaoldan stayed silent, stifling a small smile.
Zalen sniffed, face serious once more. ‘Talk to them, both of them, before the end of this voyage. Before things are damaged beyond repair. The longer you leave it the worse it will be.’
Kaoldan knew his friend was correct, he had felt the distance between himself and his daughters growing, a chasm now between them.
He felt helpless, uncertain, unsure.
What could he possibly say?
What could a man who had no relationship or influence with his daughters possibly say that would be of any solace to them?
But he knew he had to try.
Silently, he wiped the remainder of the tears from his face, roughly bear hugged Zalen, patting him firmly on the back.
He sniffed loudly.
Zalen nodded solemnly to him, he wiped his face one more time then turned towards the stairs.
‘If it’s any consolation.’ added Zalen. ‘I think Morveen would have been proud of your efforts. I think she would have done the same if the roles had been reversed. You weren’t to blame for what happened and she would not hold it against you.’ he squeezed then let go of Kaoldan’s hand.
Kaoldan glanced at his hand then looked away sharply, hiding his trembling chin from his friend, he walked away rubbing the back of his neck.
If only Zalen knew.
Chapter 22 – Open Doors
The swaying of the ship and the creaking echoes of the timbers were the only things that accompanied Kaoldan as he slowly and slightly ungracefully made his way down the steps.
He walked along the dim lightly lit corridor - smoothing his clothes out, mind blank - towards the front door. Pausing he felt the throb of his heart.
He felt something brush against his leg.
Dref looked up, eyes wide.
Kaoldan breathed out slowly and ruffled the dog’s head.
Dref smiled.
‘Wish me luck.’ he whispered to the dog.
Closing his eyes, he knocked heavily twice on the dense wood and waited.
Silence. The ship continued to roll, wood straining against the waves.
He knocked again, louder this time.
Again silence.
He hesitated then turned to leave.
A noise. Slight, but sound, nonetheless.
Dref bristled the fur on the back of his neck rising. he let out a low gurgling growl.
Kaoldan stopped, turned, ears searching. Waited then slowly turned, dismissing it as his imagination.
Dref growled again, deeper this time, edging towards the door.
Kaoldan paused; something didn’t feel right.
He marched back to the door and knocked again.
Nothing.
A sickening feeling of panic began to rise from the pit of his stomach.
He tried the handle, it clanked metallically, helplessly.
He tried it again.
And again. Clank. Clank.
‘Romina…’ he said, voice higher this time.
‘Zahara..’ lo
uder this time.
He clicked his fingers, Dref’s growling stopped, but his head did not look away, eyes fixed on the door.
Silence.
His shaking hands banged about the door.
Silence.
He tried to barge the door. It rebuffed his efforts with ease.
Cold sweat began forming on his face.
He kicked it hard, the noise boomed down the corridor, but nothing moved.
He kicked it again and again, noise deafening. Boot prints scuffed on the wood, but it still did not move.
He gritted his teeth, muscles shaking in his neck, and kicked the door several more times, with the same result; it held fast.
His legs ached, gasping for breath.
‘Out of the way.’ a voice commanded behind him. Without thinking he did as he was told.
A tall, lithe shape brushed passed him, white hair flowing as it went.
Pink light flared as Aralorne morphed his dull metal rod into an angular shaped hook. Grunting, he swung it into the frame of the door, close to the handle, with a dull thud.
Teeth clenched; face screwed up in effort he pulled at the end of the hook.
The door creaked, straining in resistance.
‘Help me.’ he groaned.
Kaoldan didn’t need any encouragement.
The two men pulled hard, forearms straining, muscles burning.
Slowly the door creaked and groaned, resisting them.
Kaoldan felt the familiar tingle of Fajin energy as Aralorne pulled with all his might.
Time seemed to slow. It was funny. He had not thought to use Fajin at all.
He closed his eyes and gathered his will. Chest tightening, arms bulging, legs on fire.
The door creaked in final defiance, there was a dull crack, the sound of something snapping and the door finally gave way.
Wooden splinters clattered to the floor. Dust like plumes of smoke, swirled where the door had been seconds before.
The room still and silent.
It was gloomy, illuminated by one single hanging lantern. There were two bunk beds, one on top of another at the far end of the room, two bodies lying on top of them. Blankets wrapped around them.
Kaoldan strode across the room. He pulled the blanket clear of the body on the lower bunk. It was pale and still.