An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  “All right,” Enosh replied, looking up. He thought for a moment. “How about this? You have a birthmark on your left little toe, and your dog Popi once bit you in the ankle for some reason. You may still have a scar from it.”

  “Nice try. It was Opi,” Rosha said. She got up. “You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “You’ve decided to trust me?”

  “I’ve decided you know too much to be benign. I want to know if you pose a threat to us or not.”

  “Tough words coming from a little girl, but I’ll bite, my lady. Right this way.” Enosh stepped back as two simulacrums rushed past him. He gestured to Rosha and started down the path.

  Chapter Six

  Never, in the past three years, had Sume allowed herself to dream of the day she would see Enosh appear before her with Rosha stepping closely behind him. The image, she had reasoned, would be too painful for more reasons than she could name. Sometimes, sorrow is created when one does not know how to temper expectations.

  Even when she saw them emerge from the mist with Enosh looking for all the world like a subdued dog, complete with wagging tail, she still didn’t believe it. This is it, she thought, her eyes blinking back against the sudden flurry of light snow. My mind’s snapped. First, Rysaran’s death, and now…

  They drew closer, and she realized that Rosha had grown much taller than when she had seen her last. She didn’t need any more than that. She hurtled down the trail, ignoring Enosh, who had started to say something, and threw her arms around her daughter. Rosha stood still as the sobs tore out of Sume like an endless wave.

  A part of her had honestly believed she would never see her child again.

  After a length of time, Sume pulled away, though she remained kneeling there, smoothing away the wet hair from Rosha’s face and marvelling at how much she had grown. The child-like roundness had disappeared, revealing a face that was more young girl than toddler. The soft freckles along her nose were more prominent now than they were. Sume felt the weight of those three years bearing down on her. I can never take them back. Dear child, I did what I had to, but Sakku knows how much I wished I didn’t.

  “It’s cold,” Sume stammered. She got up, unclasped her cloak, and wrapped it around Rosha.

  “By Dorsin’s beard,” Sapphire breathed. “She was the one controlling the simulacrums? That mite of a thing?”

  “Controlling and making,” Enosh said. Was that a hint of pride in his voice? He looked at Sume. “You’ve enough time to catch up on the way. Start heading for Sutan.”

  “How?” Sapphire asked.

  Enosh turned to her. “Let’s not start again, Sapphire. We know you can do this. We know this is necessary.”

  Sapphire goggled at him. “You want me to do this right now? With three people in tow? While our lives are very possibly in danger, with who knows how much stray agan floating about in the air? Now?”

  “It is disconcerting how you keep asking questions you know I will answer with yes,” Enosh said. “Let’s not get into hysterics, now.”

  “I can’t leave,” Rosha spoke up.

  Sume drew her close. “Oh, my love, we have to.”

  “You don’t understand, Mama. Papa needs Naijwa’s beast for a battle. If it’s not there, he could lose and then he might die.” Her voice sounded shrill against the wind.

  Sume shook her head. “Yn Garr is just saying that. Rosha, this man here can help you with your dreams. He can help protect you from it.”

  “No, Mama. No. Listen to me. It’s real. If we don’t find it, Papa’s life is in danger.”

  “Rosha…”

  “You left us, and now suddenly you know better?”

  The sting of her daughter’s words stunned her. Sume closed her eyes for a moment, trying to both gather her thoughts and stem the tide of anger rising inside of her. Be patient with her, she told herself, breathing. Kefier would be. She is just as confused as you are.

  “Might I offer a suggestion?” Enosh broke in. “You’ve not seen your mother in a long time, little one. Give her a chance to talk to you in Sutan. We have a house in there that you will love. Books everywhere. Sapphire,” he added, turning to her. “You only need to take two people with you. Sume and Rosha.”

  “You’re staying?” Sapphire breathed.

  Enosh nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on Naijwa’s beast. The little lady’s concern for her father is...admirable.” He glanced at Sume when he said this. Sume looked away, unsure of what to make of this. “What do you think, Rosha? Does that sound like a good deal?”

  Sume placed her hand on Rosha’s shoulder. “We won’t let anything happen that will jeopardize him, Rosha. But this is not the safest place for you right now.”

  “Master Gorrhen and Jarche…they’ll be looking for me.”

  “They don’t care about you,” Enosh commented.

  The sharp look in Rosha’s eyes could’ve drawn blood. “How could you say that?” she asked. “They do. It’s just…”

  “They want something from you. Using isn’t the same as caring.”

  “Enosh,” Sume warned.

  He stepped back. “I apologize. But she has to understand…”

  “She will,” Sume said. “Rosha, please. This is not the place.” She placed her hand on Rosha’s cheek, wondering if it was her daughter’s skin or her own palm that was freezing. After a moment’s hesitation, Rosha nodded.

  “It’s still not going to be easy for me,” Sapphire broke in. “Bringing Enosh here was hard enough. A second try in less than two days with more people is...well, that’s about the level of insanity I expect from you, so maybe I’m in the wrong here.” She glared at Enosh.

  “You just admitted you were wrong. Oh, happiest of days. Did you hear her, Sume?”

  “So as long you don’t mind if we all explode into bits or get lost along the way…” Sapphire grumbled.

  “That won’t happen,” Rosha quipped.

  Sapphire turned to her, too surprised to say anything in response. “I said that won’t happen,” Rosha repeated. “You’re just trying to create a portal, yes? I can help.”

  “She can help,” Sapphire mumbled. She pushed her spectacles. “You know how to hold against the flow?”

  Rosha nodded, drawing a series of runes in the air. Sume didn’t quite understand it, but she saw the look on Sapphire’s face turn from perplexed to downright dumbfounded. “This…” Sapphire continued, looking at Enosh, “...is clearly not genetic. Very well. I’ll tell you what I need you to do in a moment. You—” she continued, pointing at him. “—are not going to try to get yourself killed, are you?”

  “And have you miss out on all the fun? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Good,” Sapphire said. “I’ll take care of them. We’ll meet you in Sutan. Let’s get off this trail—I think I saw a clearing nearby.”

  Enosh grabbed Sume’s arm as they strode past him, pulling him to her for a moment. He was quiet for a moment, as if he was struggling for words. “Thank you,” he said, at length.

  “What for?”

  He shook his head, removing his cloak to put on her. “We don’t want both of you cold,” he murmured. He touched her chin before departing from her for the second time that day. Her cheeks felt like they had been brushed by fire.

  Enosh knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Jaeth’s Eye hated him.

  It wasn’t just the hot rage he could feel stemming from the creature whenever it greeted him. He knew it liked to taunt people, that its insults were meant to tower over you like a wave before crashing against you. What manifested as mere words for him often proved to be too overwhelming for most people, especially when it became relentless.

  There was something else there, a thin layer of resentment that began the first time he had cracked the lid of its prison open back in the temple in Sagun Isle. That day, Enosh had felt the creature attempt to wrap him in its poison and then realize, with a start, that he wasn’t reacting the way it had expected him to. Th
e first words it had spoken to him were, Who are you? What are you doing?

  “I am a son of Jaeth,” Enosh had told it. “I’ve come to free you.”

  Why? it had asked.

  “Why not? Everyone deserves to be free, do they not? And you’ve been here a long, long time.”

  It had drawn back again in silence. Enosh, looking back at it, thought that he should’ve at least considered what he was actually speaking to. A creature conjured from the agan, even one created from dead things, should not have the capability to think and respond like another human being. Afterwards, it had been too late to change his mind; he had gone out, carrying the creature with a box, and then he had his chance encounter with his Kefier in the altercation that ended with Enosh falling off a cliff. He had to spend months recovering from that.

  When he had been finally well enough to release the creature, it had demanded that he take it back to the temple. It’s quiet there, it screamed. Less noise, less people! So many people! The touch of others’ memories distressed it. Enosh had to coax it out of its shelter in a manner that lately reminded him of Arn and his griffon...the boy and the eye-blob, preparing to conquer the world. The thought of it disgusted him, now.

  Son of Jaeth, it hissed as soon as he reappeared in the cave. It had grown bolder since Rysaran’s death. You’ve been gone for far, far too long. Come closer.

  “No, thank you,” Enosh said, making sure the creature heard the sarcasm in his voice while he surveying the bonds he and Sapphire had made around it. The agan-wrought ropes still seemed to be holding. He made a small connection to test it, and heard the creature snap at him.

  But didn’t you miss me? You must have. I met your daughter. I almost got her a couple of times.

  “But you didn’t,” he said. He stopped at the edge of the chasm, noting the hooks and chain links that had been hammered into the rock face.

  I haven’t given up. Some annoying thing put up a barricade, but I took care of her, and I’ll take care of the barricade, soon enough. She’s not safe. It chuckled. It must feel nice, having children. What would you feel if I took her away?

  Enosh noted how the creature’s voice inside his head seemed to rise whenever it talked to him for any period of time. If he could find a word for what he thought the creature felt for him, it was envy. It envied him, and everyone it met—envied their memories and their thoughts and emotions. It was an agan-wrought creature that was probably moving because of the collective consciousness of all the souls it has consumed in the past.

  The thought frightened Enosh more than he cared to think about. If it ever succeeded in killing him—a feat made easier by its dragon’s body, which did not recoil from him the way Jaeth’s Eye used to—where would he go? Would he become part of the rage, the longing, and the sorrow lying below that abyss? He didn’t want to know.

  “I’d leave you if I could,” Enosh said out loud, laughing. “Drop you like a woman I have no intention of bedding more than once. But I think our fates are stuck together, you and I.”

  It remained silent. It was not a thing made for conversation.

  “This is how it’s going down,” he continued. “I’m going to let you go. You’re going to remember that I’m nice to you.” He had to grimace in distaste, saying those words, and thanked the measure of protection that being a descendant of Jaeth offered him against the creature. It was difficult not to think of Rysaran at that moment. The prince’s every thought and memory would’ve been laid bare for the beast to feast on.

  Enosh created an agan rope, looping it around the hooks before dropping it into the chasm. He heard the beast shuffle underneath him, the ground shaking as it did so. “Take it with your teeth,” he said as he tied the end of the rope to the bridge posts. “Pull yourself up.”

  Why? This time, its thoughts were clear, distinct, a plain voice inside his head.

  “Because I’m a soft-hearted bastard. Because you want to escape. Because you don’t need any more reason than that, you piece of shit. Pull yourself up.” He released a quick flicker of energy, enough to sting the creature. It used to work more often, when it was still small.

  Surprisingly, it responded. He heard the beast lumbering towards the wall and saw the agan rope tighten. “There you go,” Enosh said, stepping back as he saw the purple and blue tendrils light up the whole cavern. He could’ve thrown his lantern away and still see the creature as clearly as if it they were in broad daylight.

  It clung to the wall, the net around its body preventing it from doing much more than that, its wings struggling against its bonds. “Now, to the side,” Enosh said, coaxing it towards him. It grabbed another part of the rope, pulling itself against the broken bridge. Black ooze dripped along the cliff wall where it was hanging from moments ago.

  “Not far, now,” Enosh crooned. It followed him like a dog.

  He knew, of course, that the complacence wouldn’t last. He saw the first of its feet claws on the edge of the ground, the tendrils reaching past it to propel the bulk of the creature up. And then he was running, down the cavern and past the cave that had been Rysaran’s home for at least a year, or maybe more. The creature tore after him like an angry wolf. If it didn’t trip on the net every few steps, it would’ve gotten close enough to grab him.

  Outside, Enosh turned to face it, drawing his sword and allowing himself a feeble connection to the agan. Inwardly, he hoped that whatever Sapphire had taught him in the last few years would be enough for him to protect himself. Just a little longer, he thought, as the beast circled him.

  He felt his skin crawl, as it had just that morning, and smiled. Now.

  Jarche and Yn Garr appeared from behind the trees.

  The creature glanced at them, uttering a guttural scream. It did not hold the same hate or fear against Jarche that it did with Enosh, but it recognized the scent of agan, even in people who were not descendants of Raggnar rog-Bannal’s mages.

  “I tire of your tantrums, boy,” Yn Garr said, drawing his sword.

  “Where did you take Rosha?” Jarche asked. “Please, Enosh…”

  “Don’t,” Enosh snapped. “You’ve got no right to call me that.”

  “What did I tell you?” Yn Garr snorted. “Tantrums. You are much, much too old for them, I wager.”

  “Rosha needs training,” Jarche pleaded. “You must’ve sensed it. The agan runs through her veins like blood. Whatever she has is older and more powerful than anything I have ever seen in a human in my life. Enosh, if she does not learn to control it, it will consume her.”

  “Yet you’d put her in danger, making toys to piss off Jinsein royals.”

  “She does not get much of a chance to practice in the mansion. I made sure to put up the appropriate wards around her...she was never in danger.”

  “I don’t know why you’re angry about that,” Yn Garr added. “You were the one who called for me.”

  “So sorry,” Enosh said with a grin. “A lapse in judgement.” He glanced at the beast, which had begun to circle them like a cat. “But look how I’m making up for it. I hope you take care of Giggles, it’s missed you so.” He drew back and fled into the forest.

  “Jarche!” Yn Garr bellowed. “After him!”

  Not even thirty paces down, Jarche materialized in front of him. “Let’s talk,” Jarche said, holding out her hands. “Please, my dear.”

  Enosh struck her with his blade. A wave of agan reached out, wrapping itself around the sword before it could land on her body.

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” he hissed.

  “If you think there is no room in our home for you anymore, you are wrong. Enosh, let go of your misunderstandings. There was never an intention on our part to hurt you.”

  He gave a hollow laugh. “Never? That’s an interesting choice of words after leaving me to rot in those dungeons for three years. Or are you going to tell me that Yn Garr wanted it that way, you didn’t agree, but you had no choice? Is that it? I can see the look on your face. I know you too
well, Jarche.”

  “It’s true. I didn’t,” Jarche said. “I cannot mask myself half as well as you do, at least well enough to get close to you when you were surrounded by mandraagars. It doesn’t mean I wasn’t trying to get you out.”

  “You have the skill in the agan befitting one your age. Centuries’ worth of knowledge, Jarche, and more natural ability than anyone human I’ve met. You’re telling me that you couldn’t figure out something that Orsalian, a half-breed Jin out of all people, was able to pull off? No,” he continued, holding up his hand before Jarche could interrupt him. “I’m done listening to your excuses. It was clear, even back before Lake Enji, that Yn Garr had been meaning to replace me. I value loyalty, Jarche, even coming from the top. You ought to know that about me.”

  “Is that all we were to you?” Jarche asked. “People you worked for? Not family?”

  “Family?” Enosh snapped. “You’ve got a funny way of looking at things, Jarche. It used to be adorable.” He slashed at her again, but she was gone.

  Interlude

  Her mother sleeps the sleep of the dead, one hand still clutching Rosha’s arm like she is not quite sure how to let go. Rosha extracts her fingers one by one and slides out of her embrace. She makes her way to the window, where she can see the city of Sutan below her.

  Sutan, in Jin-Sayeng. Her memories of her life here are as clear as ever, and for a moment she feels like she is transported back in time, waking up before dawn in their house in Shirrokaru. If her father is here, if she could hear him snoring on the mat across the room, the illusion would be complete. Only he is not, and child though she may be, she has seen enough over the last few days to doubt if he will ever be.

  Her mother, for example, has built a life here in Sutan with another man.

  She claims it is because this man, Enosh, and the woman, Sapphire, are both skilled in the agan and could help her with Naijwa’s beast. Rosha does not understand that. She liked Jarche’s lessons, and Jarche was more than qualified to take on the job. It is now clear that her mother found another reason to leave and stay away from them. The boy in the store, Basing, called this Enosh her mother’s man when they came in. Rosha is intelligent and does not need much more than that.