Tetra shuddered. So, too, did Zelda, realizing just how terrifyingly easy it sounded for the empire to turn the magi from welcomed outsiders into scapegoats that needed slaughtering.
“I suspect, had the attack on Indica not taken place, that the empire would just outright declare war on the magi and seek to exterminate them. They called us rats and scum, a virus that needed eradication. I founded the Shadows of the Empire at first with two goals—to protect magi, and to spread the truth. As time went by, though, I gave up on the second goal. It’s meaningless to spread the truth if those who speak it are killed. As it is, they’ve essentially won that war in Caia, even if it came at burning their city down. Now I fear what they will do to Dabira. We can’t waste time. Garo, for a long time, held out hope that we might find common ground. Even a few hours ago, he believed it.
“Unfortunately, time has proved him wrong and me correct. We must fight the demon that is humanity. And we must do so with all our forces gathered.”
When she finished, her shoulders slumped, as if the weight of the story had crushed her. Garo came close but didn’t dare put a hand on her. Zelda still had trouble seeing the two magi—years apart on physical appearance, the same age in experience and actual age—as Garo and Tetra, even though she knew it to be true. They had no reason to lie about their real identities.
“The bottom line is,” Garo said. “What you said about Garo, about me, is correct, Zelda. I would like to believe that there is still hope for humanity and magi to come to a peace. Tetra believes the only way we can achieve peace is to obtain power for ourselves and use it over the empire. In her worst moments, she calls me weak, and in my worst, I call her greedy. The more time that goes by, however… especially after today…”
Garo didn’t need to finish the sentence. The underlying message was clear to Zelda. The more time that goes by, the more Garo realizes that peace cannot be obtained through understanding. As long as the current empire continued, they could not ever find peace. Even as Zelda acknowledged its veracity, she fought it on an emotional level.
“It’s simple, really. Around the time that they declared certain magic activities illegal, I just realized the slope we were on and that the empire would never accept us,” Tetra said. “At one point, I believed what Garo said, and that was because I had thought it through, not because Garo told me to believe it. I think you know I am too strong-willed to let anyone, even my husband, explain things to me in such a way. But I was quicker to see what would happen. Garo, I must say, is truly a man of principle. But…”
The words were left again unsaid. Tetra sees Garo as weak.
It was a true tragedy, one that made Zelda feel unstable in the legs. The way they described themselves, Zelda could not imagine a couple being happier together. Just the fact that they had stayed married for some over a century spoke to their strength. Some of it was surely the hell that they had gone through, and some of it was just their natural connection. And yet, for the ages to split them apart, at least philosophically if not literally…
The demons of life and of the mind had a way of either bonding people together or breaking them apart, she knew from her rough childhood. But what she hadn’t realized was that it wasn’t always the same for a single relationship. Ten years of hell could bring them together, but an eleventh might separate them forever. Likewise, twenty years of hell could keep a relationship from forming, but the next might force a union that each party would give fully of themselves to.
Wherever that boundary had come from, it had happened. And now a great love story was living as an awkward, business-like relationship.
Zelda prayed that she would never reach that point. If she fell in love… she had never wanted to die. Even in the darkest of moments, when Mama died and when she didn’t know how to get food without stealing, she didn’t want to let go of life. But she began to see the benefit of it if she were much, much older. If she died in some fifty or sixty years, she might never have to reach that point where her and her husband would drift apart over whatever minor difference had slowly stretched out into major differences.
“It is a sad day, make no mistake,” Garo said. “Not even I slaughtered a legendary dragon, and here was an occasion more momentous than anything that had happened in years. Decades. Centuries! And I thought this would bring us together. But no. Tetra is right, and I am wrong. Honestly, Zelda, Yeva, my will to fight is dying. I have fought for what I believe in, and the only thing keeping me alive is my choice. I could wake up tomorrow, decide not to keep myself alive, and I would be dead by sunset. I have no plans to do so anytime soon. But…”
Tetra grimaced, but it was only a brief grimace. She had to assume the identity of Kara, Zelda realized, in order to carry out her plans without thinking of Garo. If Gaius died, it was sad but a part of war. If Garo died…
“I will not discourage my wife, Tetra, from doing what she plans to do,” Garo said. “If she orders me to fight with her, then I will do whatever it takes. Right now, however, we have a more pressing issue. We need to get to Dabira and warn the town.”
“Why?” Yeva asked, her voice nervous. She has family there still. She doesn’t want them dragged in.
“Because as I just explained, he’s taken us down in Caia and feeling confident,” Tetra said, her cold voice returning. “He’s not going to stop at Caia. He’s going to go after Dabira. This is his moment of glory. He wants to make the magi extinct. I do not hesitate to say that we will need all of us and this crystal in the coming days more than ever.”
Garo might have preached pacifism and peace, but they all knew what they would have to do if the empire came after them. They would have to kill. What they were facing in the way of the empire was not just an opponent that could be reasoned with.
It was pure evil. It was evil that would not blink to betray, kill, maim, torture, or trick any of them or any other mage.Unfortunately, the result of the empire’s maliciousness was that it dictated the terms of battle so long as the fires of war raged.
But still, Zelda wanted to know why. Where had this hatred come from? What had caused it? Would Garo know? And if they knew why they hated the magi so much, could she reach a new truce on this desperate hope? Zelda tried to ponder the questions.
Where did the hatred come from? There was no clear answer to that. Perhaps Garo or Tetra might know, but at best, it was an even proposition that they would, and even if they did, Zelda didn’t know if they would be willing to talk about it. The battle they had just all escaped had left everyone on edge, scarred, and wounded in the mind, more so than the body. The body would heal, but the mind…
Did the hatred really just stem from the fact that they were different? Did they fear that the magi might overpower them and take power for themselves? Zelda supposed it was possible, but it didn’t seem… it wasn’t just the emperor declaring his hatred for magi. It was an entire city of people. Sure, people treated her well… when she was singing in the streets. Not when she was a mage. If anyone had known she was a mage, greed and fear would have turned her in.
No, something had to be embedded in the people. Something had to have encouraged them to fear magi as they did, to distrust them with their lives. Something historic. Something from long ago. Something that became as fundamental to their knowledge base as simple arithmetic and art. Or maybe they are just that easily manipulated and controlled. I hope not.
Greed. It seemed to be the driving force behind it all. Greed for a place in history. Greed for revenge. Greed for power. Greed for land. Greed for control. Greed… greed… and more greed.
But where was the line? Zelda needed power to fight the empire—but what was too greedy? When did greed turn from a weapon into a prison of the mind?
She hated that she was too young to know. But again, Garo and Tetra could help.
The time for needing help, though, would have to wait. For what Garo had said about needing to fight was suddenly timely and relevant.
They heard the gate of Caia
opening. Zelda went to the crest of the hill and looked back down.
About a dozen men on horses streamed out. The men had bow and arrows, and several more soldiers followed on foot. Zelda assumed that they had brought over a hundred men, perhaps overkill for just four magi but enough to ensure their demise.
“Kill her!” one of the soldier said, spotting Zelda. Zelda quickly turned and ran, barely dodging an arrow that grazed by her right ear.
“There must be a hundred men!” Zelda said. “At least. Many more on horses. What do we do?”
She had hoped that an impending battle would give Tetra and Garo renewed vigor and a chance to fight. But Garo looked exhausted, perhaps unwilling to continue fighting. Tetra tried to steel herself, but she looked so exhausted and drained that she could barely stand. Only her and Yeva stood a chance, and even Zelda had not recovered her strength from their escape.
“We fight and avenge the deaths,” Yeva said, but fear underlined her voice.
We can’t fight, we’ll get slaughtered. They aren’t taking us prisoner. It’ll be her against a hundred. She’ll die.
She glanced back over the hill and barely dodged another arrow. The men on horses would reach them within fifteen seconds, if not less. Only Yeva had the strength to fight for a prolonged period of time. She might defeat a few of the men on horses, but the soldiers on foot would finish them all off. If, somehow, they didn’t, even more forces were pouring out of the gate. Zelda knew then that the emperor would literally send his entire army to kill the four of them if he had to.
We can’t. We have to run. To escape.
To teleport. You have to. Find your strength.
Zelda sprinted back down the slope and grabbed Yeva, pulling her toward Garo and Tetra.
“What are you doing?” Yeva asked. “Put us together and we’re an easy target!”
Zelda didn’t listen to what any of them said. She only said, “Grab someone,” closed her eyes, and felt a surge of energy. She felt her body become light as a feather, stay that way for about a second, and then her feet touched the ground once more.
She opened her eyes, looked back, saw no soldiers, heard no cries, and breathed easily.
Then she felt so lightheaded she collapsed and passed out.
CHAPTER 10: ERIC
From the minute that they saw the small town of Dabira, Eric, Abe, and Artemia also saw a congregation of magi gathering near the docks.
“Are they going to arrest us like the Shadows did?” Eric asked, his hand on his sword just in case.
“Doubtful,” Abe said. “They jeered at us when we arrived with Frederick and Gaius, but they did not harm us. We are on a boat on the verge of collapsing, wearing clothing unlike anything an imperial soldier would wear. If they do anything, I suspect it will only involve a bitter verbal confrontation. Not violence.”
But when Eric thought of the emperor’s strong words against the magi and their history, he could not help but think the magi of Dabira would see any visitor from the sea as a threat to their very existence.
“We make our way straight for the leader, be he a mayor, a representative of the emperor, or a magi, as soon as we can,” Artemia said. “We are not to cause problems. We will be friendly. But we must not delay in any sense of the word.”
By the time the boat reached the docks, a crowd at least a dozen people thick had gathered. Eric gulped as the magi roped the boat in. He saw many of them carrying swords, daggers, or bow and arrows. They ranged in age from the young adult to the elder. All of them gazed with suspicion upon the three of them. Almost wish we had Kara here. Or Zelda. She was heading here before. I wonder if she went back here after Indica.
An older woman approached, her two boys waiting back with the rest of the crowd. Artemia stepped in front of Eric and Abe, her hands folded over her waist, a gentle-but-fake smile on her lips, and a soft posture. Eric stole a quick glance at Abe, who had his hands on his hips—but his left hand on his sword hilt, just in case. Eric did the same.
“Welcome to Dabira,” she said, though her voice sounded anything but welcoming. Not hostile, but guarded. “Who are you?”
“Thank you,” Artemia said, her words precise and annunciated crisply as usual. “We come from Caia.”
“Not of the empire, though,” Abe interjected. Artemia’s smile briefly flickered, not amused at the interruption, but it quickly found itself once more. Something is going on there. Something weird. It’s like she doesn’t want him around anymore.
“That is reassuring to hear but not yet enough,” the woman said. Still, her body posture visibly relaxed. Surely, Eric thought, she had picked up on the lack of military uniform, harsh words, and verbal reassurance to know they were telling the truth. “Then who are you?”
Artemia looked to Abe for a split second, as if sending him the message to let her speak. Eric looked at Abe, who remained stoic. Artemia raised her eyebrows knowingly and turned back to the woman.
“We are dragon hunters. We are part of the Dragon Hunter’s Guild.”
The look on the woman’s face expressed confusion. Had she never heard of the Dragon Hunter’s Guild? Was life in Dabira so separate from the rest of the empire that they didn’t know about the hunters? Did they even know about the slaughter of Indcia?
If true, Eric envied them. He wanted a life so simple that it didn’t involve anything it didn’t have to. He didn’t want to have to deal with corrupt emperors and demanding bosses and petty politics with other hunters.
Of course, what that meant to the magi and what that meant to him were entirely different things. They didn’t have deaths to avenge still.
“The Dragon Hunter’s Guild?”
“Yes. We slaughter dragons for the good of Hydor. We recently dispatched Indica.”
Murmurs spread through the crowd like fire through wood. Eric overheard multiple magi claim that was impossible, while others spoke about the shifting weather and rise of larger monsters in the rivers. Perhaps Abe is smarter than he realizes. Still, trying to figure out truth from rabble wouldn’t happen here.
When the words died, the woman cleared her throat.
“Why have you come?”
“I am happy to explain that when I meet the person in charge of this city,” Artemia said. “All of you are invited, but I wish to speak to whoever that is, if I may.”
“I, I see,” the woman said.
We’re not of the empire. But we’re certainly not making her or the rest of the magi comfortable.
“Follow me, then.”
The crowd split as the woman headed into the heart of town with the three hunters in tow. Her children followed with another older man, but the rest of the magi remained back in the crowd, watching with intent curiosity. Eric removed his hand from the sword but patted it on his hip every few seconds, cautious of a sudden elemental spell.
But the more he walked through Dabira, the less frequently he reached for his weapon. Marked by curious gazes, children playing out in the open, a slower pace, and statues of dragons and other beings, Dabira looked like the antithesis of Caia. The city was not full of the homeless, civil unrest, or guards making sure everyone worshiped the emperor. In fact, Eric didn’t see a single guard during his journey through the middle of the city. If Eric hadn’t known any better, he would’ve assumed that this town had declared independence from the empire some time ago. He even let himself wonder if they would allow non-magi to live in this place.
As far as it being an outpost for magi to live in peace, it certainly made sense. Between the weeks-long hike or the days-long boat ride, it just wasn’t worth the emperor’s resources to keep a close eye on the place. Eric found himself falling more and more in love with the city every step. It didn’t carry the hard memories that Mathos did, and it didn’t have the underlying tension that Caia did. Perhaps when he was finished dragon hunting, if the magi allowed it, he would come to dwell with them.
He had no time to give more than a passing glance of the architecture, culture,
and art of Dabira. But he told himself when he finished with Ragnor, his soul would know peace here. No matter what it took, he’d find a way to fit into Dabira.
Eventually, the woman stopped at a large open circle in the middle of town. No buildings encroached on a circle of nine magi, six men and three women. The nine folk sat with their legs crossed, their bodies relaxed, their hands on their knees, as they smiled at the woman.
One man in particular, sporting a thick beard and gray robes, stood and bowed to the woman.
“Good afternoon, Maria,” he said. “I see that you have brought some new guests. Hopefully they will not run like the previous ones.”
The previous ones?
“Yes, Roland,” she said. “They said something about being dragon hunters.”
The warm smile on Roland’s face quickly vanished. He certainly knows about us. Or our title strikes so much fear into them. Or we’re just not magi.
“I see. Go back to your children, please, Maria. The council will talk with them.”
He scanned the three of them as Maria quickly departed, moving with haste away from the council of nine. Eric looked into the eyes of Roland and saw a man sure of his place in magi society, but one unfamiliar and uncomfortable with outsiders. It wasn’t the greatest sign of strength, but in a place this isolated, maybe it wasn’t necessary.
“Who are you?” Roland said.
Once more, Artemia took the lead, introducing herself. Abe did not dare to speak out again, lest he draw the ire of the guild master.
“Artemia,” Roland said, his voice edgier than Maria’s. He must know her from before. “And what brings you back here to this town? Will death and destruction follow you like six years ago? Or will no one die upon your visit?”
Ragnor…
“This is a quick stop for us, Roland,” Artemia said. “We wish to spend the night as part of our larger quest. And you know if I could’ve prevented the deaths, I would have. I did everything I could.”
“Forget that time. Why are you here?”
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