My eyes gently open. For a moment, I sigh, feeling peace. The boughs of some kind of trees hang above me, shading me and seeming to seclude me from harm, keeping me safe. The grass beneath me is plush and comfortable, the best natural mattress I have ever had the pleasure of laying on. I don’t know where I am. But I feel content to not know; to enjoy this silence, and this peace…
Then pain flares in my arm, and I lurch forward, nausea and panic seeming to fill my stomach simultaneously. “Shoot!” I gasp breathlessly, turning my attention to the wound on my arm. I can only regard it for a moment before raising my head to the sky, desperately searching for something, something to look at, something to hear, something to think of that will distract me from my pain. Why does it hurt so bad? I’ve suffered worse wounds before, haven’t I?
“Kiilda’s blade turns flesh into stone.”
I cast a frightful glance back at the gash. It doesn’t seem like it has begun turning to stone; in fact, I can still move it. It hurts more than anything, but my range of motion is actually quite decent.
How did I get here? That seems like an important question, based upon what seemed to happen to Kiilda. Right after cutting me, It seemed to vanish. Is this the Gray Lands? Did I successfully make it through Kiilda?
A feeling in my gut tells me that I shouldn’t get too excited. There’s no way I somehow beat Kiilda; that would’ve been too easy. In fact, I did nothing that would’ve hurt Kiilda. Fear and anxiety cloud my mind as much as my pain does; it’s not over.
I feel weak; I feel like I can’t take this pain any longer. Why am I here? What am I doing? Why would I even think to challenge Kiilda? For Soror? Heh, I think, what was I thinking? How in the hell was I supposed to help her? I feel sick to my stomach, and without needing any further prompting from my body, I sit up and vomit. I gasp after I finish. “Dammit,” I swear under my breath. “How am I going to do this?”
I raise my head to the sky.
PROTAGONIST SWITCH: FAITH PINCK
There’s not much to do at Castrum Fortress. Well, maybe that isn’t true. Castrum Fortress lost nearly all of its warriors in the attack on Howaito Maki. The invasion was successful; it just cost the people so much. The community seems to have become depressed…and understandably so. Families lost fathers or mothers, husbands or wives, brothers or sisters.
At the same time, there is much joy. Much relief. The prisoners of Howaito Maki have been rescued, and many families were happily reunited. It’s been beautiful to see lovers meet once again, children run back to their parents, and friends return from their captivity. I’m glad I could help be a part of this movement; the movement that endeavors to make a society whole once again.
I step out of the infirmary, walking through the lower bailey. Maybe there’s something I can do; something or someone I can help. Although I’d much rather be helping John, or even traveling with him and Bernard again, I have to admit that my abilities are still of use here.
I should be getting back to Frater too. Ever since John left—and Soror was taken—, Frater has obviously been very uncomfortable. From what I’ve heard from John, both Frater and Soror were something of introverts. It seems like it’s all Bernard and I can do to feed the little boy. He doesn’t want to play with any of the other boys; he doesn’t want to leave the keep. It’s actually sad to see him like that. In all honesty, I really think that the only remedy Frater needs is his family. And neither I nor Bernard can provide that.
This is a broken world…
I’m not sure where that thought comes from; I can’t say that I’m usually the type of person to ask “big questions” or make comments concerning the nature of the world. But it’s true; the more I think about it, the more I discover how warped and distorted the world is. I don’t mean the world as a whole; obviously, the Gray Lands and the Dark Lands have been ravaged by the presence of the Evil, with the human peoples gradually acting in a likewise manner. But these are the Golden Lands. This is supposed to be a place of joy and happiness. Yet I just don’t feel that way anymore. It must be the Evil; they are making this world gray.
That’s the way the Evil work, I think. Before turning something dark, they always make it gray.
“Hey, Faith,” I hear someone say behind me and to my right. I look over my shoulder, and then stop, grunting inwardly. Tarsh Landid approaches me, walking casually with his head bowed and hands in his pockets. He’s not even looking at me as he steps; I guess this is his way of being cool.
Okay, it’s sort of working; he is cool. But I still feel too awkward around him to feel anything good about him.
“Hey, Tarsh,” I reply. I’ll talk to him and maybe give him some company out of politeness, but…
“Visiting someone in the infirmary?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I answer, continuing to walk forward. “Frances Beznar, Lord Beznar’s daughter, and Ashida Elrono, a scout who helped us enter Howaito Maki.”
“Ah,” Tarsh remarks, continuing to pace through the lower bailey with me.
The people of Castrum Fortress were hesitant to accept Tarsh into their castle; Tarsh is, after all, the former Ghost of Hedekira. The Ghost of Hedekira was the name Tarsh had earned for himself during his search for John; it had been his goal to find John and kill him out of vengeance. Before doing that, however, he had set about destroying John’s reputation, killing lots of people in the act. It was only because Tarsh saved the army of Castrum Fortress with a surprise attack against the Evil that the citizens decided to let him stay at the castle.
I agree with their decision. I believe that he’s changed. I don’t know what happened to him, or what caused him to change, but he did. And I’m glad for that.
But there’s a rift in our relationship. He killed my brother.
I already forgave him. He had been dying of an arrow wound to the chest, an arrow which had been en route to pierce Frater—John’s little brother—in the head. As he sat there dying, he had apologized…and sincerely. In fact, he might have even thought that his apology would’ve been the last thing he ever said. So, during his last moments, I forgave him.
He didn’t die, however. I…healed him, somehow. I haven’t been able to repeat it; actually, I still don’t even know how I did it. I just grabbed his hand, attempting to give him some comfort before he passed on, and then a blue light began to shine from where our hands were clasped. A few moments later, he was perfectly healed.
I’ve sensed that this encounter would have to happen. I saved him; in fact, I might be the only person here that’s done anything genuinely kind for him. Of course he would seek me out, eventually. And now he’s found me.
“How bad were they hurt,” Tarsh breaks the silence, “the captain and the scout?”
“Pretty bad,” I answer. “Frances had a bunch of cuts, and she had been stabbed through the stomach. Ashida has a few broken bones. Frances is lucky to have survived.”
“Did you heal her?”
I stop, grunting. “No, I didn’t,” I reply. I look sidelong at him, “You’re the only person that I’ve healed.”
He looks at me with his bright, icy blue eyes. “I have a hard time believing that.”
I feel like he knows that I’m not lying. I was talking about healing people with whatever power I used on him. He ignored that, however. I guess it was a rather thoughtful comment. “Well, actually,” I chuckle, “I guess I have healed John several times. The first time was when he—” I pause, suddenly feeling awkward.
“When he got his ass kicked by me,” Tarsh says matter-of-factly. There is no arrogance or hostility in his voice.
“Right,” I reply, disregarding the vulgarism of his statement for the moment. “Then there was the time when we ran into some Evil in the forest, and I helped him with a shoulder wound. Well, we helped each other. I’d be willing to bet John will need someone to help him with whatever wounds he acquires while fighting Kiilda.”
> “Yeah,” Tarsh agrees. We keep on walking, and then Tarsh says, “I feel like we didn’t know each other when I was younger. How old were you when you came to Aran?” He names the town where I had been living before I decided to join John on his quest.
“Fifteen,” I answer. “I only lived there a year before I met John.”
“I see,” he nods. “That makes sense.”
We keep on walking. Gradually, the awkwardness builds up again. I feel like I want to say something to him, and he wants to say something to me, but we just don’t know how to speak to each other. That, or we just don’t know if each other is comfortable with talking, and that’s making us both feel uncomfortable. I think the moment is as discombobulating as that notion.
Then Tarsh finally speaks, “Faith, I—”
A horn sounds from the southern-most turret of the castle. For a moment, there is silence. Then we hear the sound of clanking footsteps. Soldiers are beginning to run towards the walls. Or whatever soldiers we have left. Tarsh and I exchange a glance, and then together we hurry to join the soldiers. What now?
PROTAGONIST SWITCH: AETHYER GRIM
The white clouds above us part, and sunlight breaks free and shines across the field. Wind tears through our ranks, ruffling the grassy plain before the tall dark fortress. From what we can tell, it is the people of the fortress that we are concerned about; the white city opposite the dark castle is seemingly empty.
My spikey, shoulder-length black hair flits into my eyes as another gust of wind surges across the plain. I shift uncomfortably, looking up and to my right to where our leader stands on a rock above everyone else. I frown. Or maybe it’s closer to a glare. I don’t know how much I trust her.
Cupping the stub of her arm with her free hand, our leader is—
PROTAGONIST SWITCH: FAITH PINCK
Tarsh and I simultaneously grunt. You…
Castrum Fortress is completely pinned down. Dotting the field in somewhat orderly ranks are hundreds of brown-clad warriors. And at their helm—standing above the infantry on a boulder—is a figure with long flowing hair, a look of ferocity and wrath, and a headband tied about her head, designating her as the leader. And with her right hand…she clutches the stub of her elbow on her left arm.
My stomach sinks. The Brown Bandits….
They were the squadron of bandits my brother, Karr, had been leader of. After Tarsh—as the Ghost of Hedekira—attacked them and killed Karr, John defeated him and the Brown Bandits captured him, in hopes of executing him. And there was no one who desired to kill Tarsh more than my brother’s second-in-command, a woman named Sharon.
But then John rescued Tarsh before he could be executed; he thought Tarsh could change. And it seems that John was right. But now the Brown Bandits are here.
And from the looks of it, they aren’t planning a raid.
I feel Tarsh shift anxiously beside me. I look over at him, and for a moment our eyes meet. “What do you think they want?” a soldier besides us asks to another guard.
In a voice only I can hear, I hear Tarsh reply, “I know what they want.” Then he stands erect and turns to depart the battlements.
PROTAGONIST SWITCH: AETHYER GRIM
My frown intensifies, truly turning into a suspicious glare. Without removing my gaze from Sharon, I reach behind me and place my hand on the shoulder of my sister. I don’t know completely why I do it. Maybe it’s to reassure her; maybe it’s in preparation to direct her away from here. Maybe it’s to calm myself, to remind me of my purpose.
I don’t like Sharon. Why are we really here? I think.
I release my rebellious stare from Sharon; it could be dangerous for me even to be seen making such a face at her. I don’t want her supporters to find out, whoever and wherever they are. There wasn’t much opposition when Sharon declared herself leader of the Brown Bandits. I can’t say I would know why. Both my sister and I aren’t very highly ranked amongst the rest of the bandits, so none of that knowledge really ever gets passed down to us. Or at least any concrete knowledge. We just get the rumors. And I don’t know how safe it would be to snoop around for answers. I can’t say I care that much about the politics of the Brown Bandits, or who’s in charge…
…unless their about to make us invade a castle full of innocent people for a reason they haven’t even told us yet.
I’m just here to provide for my sister. That’s the only reason I serve amongst the Brown Bandits.
Serve? I snort to myself. I should feel ashamed to use that term. I should’ve used “steal”.
“Aethyer, what is it?” Adelynn asks, gently touching my forearm, even as I still rest my hand on her shoulder.
Adelynn—I prefer to call her “Addy”—is my twin sister. Technically she’s my senior…by a few minutes. We never knew our parents. Rather, we were raised by a sweet old lady in the eastern region of the Golden Lands. Life was great back then. Images flash in mind of our old farm, on the edge of a super diminutive village. Sitting on the russet, wooden fence around our yard. Grass, green and plush. Pleasant, gentle hills. Forests tall but generously wide and clear.
But nothing good will last forever…not in this world, anyway. I’m kind of a pessimist. Thus I earned a rather stern surname…Grim.
And why shouldn’t I be?
The Evil destroyed everything good that we ever knew. The kind, elderly woman that we loved. Our village. Our peace.
Peace was something we didn’t have for a long time in our early childhood. We didn’t know why we didn’t have parents. We couldn’t understand every question about our life, our family, or where we came from. It bothered us, even when we were little.
After the Evil attacked, it was time for action. We joined the Brown Bandits out of desperation. Even though we knew that this band of thieves was up to no good, we needed their resources. And also, I personally needed something else they offered, something of greater value: experience.
That’s the only reason why I’m still here. I want to fight the Evil. But I don’t want to be like some idiot that goes after his enemies before knowing a thing about battling or combat. I’m using the Brown Bandits to train, and become stronger.
But I’ve always known that I’ve been playing their games too long. This all needs to stop. We’re hurting other people. We’re stealing from them. And now, we’re about to do it again. When the time comes, I’ll make my choice. I brusquely turn away from Sharon, walking past Adelynn, my cloak flapping loudly in response. “Come on,” I answer my sister. Slowly, she turns after me and follows.
PROTAGONIST SWITCH: FAITH PINCK
“Tarsh!” I call after the tall, teenaged guy, exiting off the steps that lead to the top of the wall. He stops for a moment, to my pleasure. But he doesn’t turn back to me. He waits, staring tersely at the ground. “What are you going to do?” I ask as I reach him.
He breathes; I can tell he is anxious, but grimly determined. “Whatever I have to,” he answers.
Boys are such blockheads. As if that explained anything. “What does that mean?” I say. I can tell my questions are starting to annoy him, as if he’s intently trying to focus on whatever he’s got planned.
“Faith,” he replies, looking away from me to his left, “why do you think those bandits are here?”
I think he knows what the answer is…and he is positive I know the answer too.
“They’re looking for you,” I answer honestly. It makes sense. Karr’s second-in-command suffered a serious wound from Tarsh, and she had intended to execute him. Yet, as far as she knew, he escaped. She never seemed like the person that would forgive and forget so easily.
“I’m certain of it,” Tarsh agrees. He sighs again.
“Well, what are you thinking?” I ask.
He frowns, looking at the ground again. “Faith…I should’ve died. After John tried to help me, I ran away, intending to kill myself. I broke my mask, wan
ting to be free of it during the last moments of my life. But then someone showed up; someone found me in the forest. And I think he had been looking for me. I didn’t see who it was; I didn’t allow myself to look. I thought it was Fate, coming to kill me. But somehow, he healed me. All he said was ‘Peace be upon you’. And after I was healed, he left me and rode away.” He turns to look at me, and our eyes meet. “I was given a second chance, Faith. I’m not going to run away, or make anything difficult for Castrum Fortress. I’ve ruined enough lives.”
The words fill my mouth immediately: “That’s so brave of you!”
But that’s not what I say. I can’t let the words out; for some reason, I flush, and look away. I say nothing. Stupid…what am I doing? I should say something in response to that!
Now too much time has passed, I think. It would be weird to reply now. Why am I thinking this through so much? I berate myself.
Tarsh breaks the awkward silence, starting forward again through the lower bailey, “Hopefully, they’ll at least state what they want before raiding. There shouldn’t have to be any bloodshed.”
“Yeah,” is all I can muster to say, hurrying to keep pace with him.
“I think we should find Lord Beznar and tell him that they most likely want me,” he continues.
I stop. “What?” I say. “Why would you do that?”
“Don’t you get it?” he halts and looks over his shoulder at me. “If I hand myself over to them, then they won’t have to attack anyone. I’m the one they want, and they can have me.” He returns his gaze to straight-ahead. “I probably deserve it, after all.”
“No you don’t!” I state. “You’ve changed. You saved all of those soldiers in Howaito Maki and you saved Frater. They have no right to kill you for things you’ve done in the past.”
“Don’t they?” he says. I don’t think it’s a question that he will let me answer.
I don’t follow him this time as he sets out again in the direction of the keep. I watch him go, my heart beating quickly with trepidation. Why is he like that? I think, frustrated.