He stepped out onto hot sand, with the golden hues of a sun setting against a sea of dunes for as far as he could see.
“Where are we?” he asked. Vir hadn’t known of any deserts very close to Brij. But that wasn’t saying much. Maiya would be the first person to tell him he sucked at geography.
“Somewhere between Brij and Saran, in the central desert. No idea where exactly, though.”
Vir looked at her expectantly.
“It’s a Hiranyan port town,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Merchants bound for Saran sometimes passed through our village. You really oughta know this, Vir.”
“Y-yeah. So, we’re still in Hiranya, huh?” That didn’t bode well for Vir, knights and all.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Maiya said. “No one’s gonna find us here.”
“Yeah? What makes you so sure?”
Maiya pointed a thumb back at the house. Vir turned… and gaped in shock.
“This… this is pure seric!” Vir exclaimed.
He could hardly believe there was a home behind him. Apart from a couple of windows here and there, the house was completely invisible. From a hundred paces away, it’d be undetectable. A sense of security settled over him like a warm blanket.
“So we’re really not prisoners, huh?”
“At least, it doesn’t seem like it? Riyan’s not the friendliest guy around, but he’s interested in us. Well, no. I think he’s interested in you.”
Why me, though?
“What’s your read on Riyan?” Vir said. “You’ve met him. Think we can trust him?”
“I… I dunno,” Maiya replied. “We oughta be careful. I can’t just accept that he’d take us in out of his own goodwill. There’s gotta be something more to it.”
“Right. He’s after something. I mean, who exactly is he? What kind of person has a secret hideout like this?” Vir simply couldn’t imagine what a pair of village teens could offer a man with the wealth Riyan possessed.
“He didn’t say. Just that he’s experienced in combat. Which is obvious. He took down that knight as easily as…” Maiya stopped suddenly, but Vir knew what she’d meant to say.
“As easily as the knight killed my father,” he completed. “I can’t… I don’t want to believe it, Maiya. That Rudvik’s really gone…”
Maiya didn’t respond.
“He told me he wasn’t a good father. But y’know? Rudvik was always nice to me. He never hurt me or shouted at me. And he treated me like I was normal. Like an equal.”
Vir looked to Maiya, tears now flowing freely down his face. “Why did he have to die, Maiya?”
Maiya frowned. “We couldn’t have done anything about it, Vir. You can’t blame yourself.”
“No, Maiya. That’s not right. We couldn’t do anything because we were weak. Too weak to resist. I hate this. I hate being powerless.”
Vir thought back to Riyan’s words right before he lost consciousness.
Do you desire strength?
He did. He craved it so badly that he’d do anything to have it. Because with strength…
No one will ever have to sacrifice themselves for me again.
They sat upon the sandy hill, watching the sun set in silence. As the last rays of light fell, a lone figure suddenly appeared beside them. Neither had heard his approach.
Vir gulped. The Ghost of Godshollow had arrived.
11RIYAN SAVAR
“You are still here,” Riyan said, walking up to the two friends sitting at the front door of his abode. He was tall, and built like an Ash’va, with no trace of excess fat anywhere. “I commend you for not running off. Of course, you couldn’t have, even if you had tried.”
“So you were going to stop us,” Maiya said.
The broad-shouldered man shook his head. “No. You would have perished if you had left the safety of my home. I am pleased you didn’t. Dealing with your corpses would leave a sour taste in my mouth.”
“Tch.”
Vir echoed his friend’s reaction.
Riyan turned, causing his white cloak to flare. “Come. Ride with me.”
“Where are we going?” Maiya asked as they mounted his Ash’va. Riyan held the reins from up front while Maiya sat behind him. Vir was at the back, almost falling off of the creature’s bum.
Riyan ignored her.
They traveled through the desert in silence for a good half hour. Vir couldn’t guess what was going on inside the man’s head, or even where he was taking them. The surroundings were all foreign, forcing him to accept just how dependent they were on this stranger. The feeling irked him, like insects under his skin.
As the last vestiges of day gave way to night, Vir saw it—a great pile of sticks and logs, arranged neatly in the middle of the desert.
“Father!”
Vir jumped off Riyan’s Ash’va before it’d even stopped, running to the pyre and damn the pain!
The guilt he’d held back came flooding out in a torrent. Vir fell to his knees. If only I were stronger. If only I knew magic. Or even how to fight.
Maiya placed a hand on his shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks as well.
Riyan lit a torch with Magic Heat, shoving a clear reminder of Vir’s failings into his face, before holding it out to him.
Vir reached out, then hesitated. Lighting the pyre made Rudvik’s death real. Some part of him still clung to the hope that his father would open his eyes and bellow a great big laugh like he always did. A part of him wanted to deny the facts, to ignore the past and pretend it never happened.
But to do so would be to deny Rudvik’s sacrifice. He took the torch from Riyan’s hand and plodded to the pyre, legs as heavy as stone. On his last step to the platform of wood, his delusions died. What remained was a cold acceptance of the harsh reality. His father was gone. Now and forever.
He threw the torch into the pyre. Oil ignited, erupting in a tongue of heat and flame. Soon, the entire pyre was ablaze.
“You were wrong, Rudvik,” Vir murmured, fists clenched in front of the inferno. “You said you’d been a poor father, but that was wrong. You were the best a son could ever have. You were… a hero to me. I promise you. No, I swear to you, I will not let you down. I swear it to the gods. I’ll become a man who can make you proud. So, watch over me, Father. Watch over me until your soul returns to the great cycle, and may your next life be long and full of happiness.”
“May your next life be long and full of happiness,” Riyan and Maiya echoed.
Vir shed no more tears. He’d said his piece and Rudvik had heard him.
And he’d spoken true. Rudvik was a hero, more so than any mythical character of legend. His father had sacrificed his life for him. For him—an adopted child! A prana scorned Ashborn!
How could Vir possibly repay him now that he was gone? What could he do to rid himself of the guilt that burned so hotly within his chest?
“You will never truly heal,” Riyan said, his deep voice carrying over the crackle of the pyre. “There will be days where you wish for times long past. Days when you yearn for the company of dearly departed friends, or the tender smile of a loved one, cruelly taken.”
Vir continued to stare at the fire. “Then, how…” How do you live with yourself?
“Time mends all wounds,” Riyan said. “Though the scars remain forever.”
So you’ve lost someone, too…
The three stood in front of the pyre for some time. A long, long time. The stars seemed oddly bright when they finally turned back and headed for Riyan’s home—as if the gods themselves were welcoming his father into their fold. Vir was feeling years older by the time they arrived at the hidden dwelling, and not in a good way. He was weary and spent, but their benefactor wasn’t done with them for the night.