Bastion

by Kyle West

  “How do you know I’m from Haven, Borek?” Isaru asked.

  “Your accent,” Borek said. He then looked at me. “Though I can’t place yours. It seems thicker, and you have a faster manner of speaking.”

  “I’m from Colonia,” I said. “Though I’m also Elekai.”

  At the mention of that city, the Avekai man and his wife looked at me nervously. Apparently, they knew what Colonia was.

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “I had to escape from there, and somehow found myself in the Seekers’ Sanctum.”

  Borek nodded. “Of course. It’s rare, but Elekai have been known to come from Colonia. It was more common in the past, but that doesn’t mean it never happens.”

  “How long have you been here?” Isaru asked.

  “I began studying the Avekai in my twenties. So, near forty years ago.” He chuckled again. “I’ve lived here almost my entire life. Even speaking Espan feels strange. My tongue feels thick and clumsy!”

  “You’ve lived here this entire time?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Don’t appear so startled. I think you will find, as you get older, that you find happiness in the most unexpected of places. That happened for me when I met Gia...my wife. It happens, sometimes...a Cleric becomes a part of the community he was ordered to serve. Too much a part of it. The Elders didn’t like it, and choosing gave me a hard time for a while — trying to decide which world I belonged to. I had to make a choice. But in the end, I accepted that this was who I really was. Everything became much easier after that.”

  We told him our names, and how we were traveling to Colonia on an urgent errand, and left it at that. As someone who had left the Seekers, I didn’t think Borek would be a threat to us, but it paid to be careful. I could tell Borek was curious about what we were doing, but he restrained himself from asking.

  “If you’re heading for Colonia, you are too far north.” Borek shuddered. “Though I don’t see why anyone would want to go there.”

  “If we didn’t have to, we wouldn’t,” Isaru said. “And the dragon is making our course. We fear that the east is being watched, so we hope to approach from an unexpected direction.”

  “Surely, the Elders wouldn’t send two so young on such a dangerous trip…”

  Isaru and I didn’t respond to that, but thankfully, the Avekai man poked at Borek, saying something.

  “Ah, where are my manners? This man here is Chief Patei, leader of Avekai.”

  Isaru and I nodded, each giving our names. Patei asked something of Borek, who listened intently before giving an answer. Patei’s face paled as Borek turned to us.

  “He asks why you’ve come to our village, and he knows it’s not just the food. I told him that you have an important mission, commissioned by the Elders, to the Lost City.”

  “The Lost City?”

  “A colloquialism for Colonia, the city that was lost. Its lore is often remembered better among Wilders than even among the Seekers. I’m surprised at the knowledge remembered among the Avekai’s oral history, not to mention that of other tribes.”

  “I wish I could stay long enough to learn it,” Isaru said.

  “It’s quite fascinating, though the Scholars, at least during my time as a Seeker, wanted nothing to do with it. As far as they’re concerned, if something wasn’t written down by someone with a fancy name, it didn’t happen. But Wilder Recounters insist that every word of their history is remembered exactly from generation to generation, and Recounters are chosen based on their intelligence, memory, and capacity for storytelling. Outside the Chief, the Recounter, at least in the Western Tribes, is nearly the Chief’s equal in power and prestige. Some would say even more. And a Recounter, unlike the Chief, is a lifelong post.”

  “I would like to speak with this Recounter,” Isaru said.

  “Only if you have a whole day on hand,” Borek said. “Even then, you wouldn’t hear the truth, not unless you are a member of the tribe.” Borek smiled. “It was part of the reasons I joined, though admittedly, it was mostly because of Gia.”

  At that moment, Chief Patei’s daughter reentered with a platter of food she had prepared. There appeared to be some mixed fruit, most of it unrecognizable, and some seared fish fresh from the stream.

  We waited a moment before Patei laughed and motioned us to start eating. Isaru and I dug in, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had something that tasted so good. The round, purple fruit, Borek explained, was called globe fruit, while the silver berries with purple spots he called laisha.

  Once done, Isaru and I settled back. This wasn’t what we had planned on for a meal, but it surpassed everything we could have imagined. Isaru spoke with Borek while I mostly just listened. They talked about the Avekai themselves, their history, and news from more civilized lands. Borek drank everything in, and Isaru seemed to have as many questions for him. If I didn’t stop him, we’d waste the rest of the afternoon when really we needed to be getting on with our journey. Isaru made our regrets, and everyone stood with us and escorted us outside.

  On our way out, Borek watched as we equipped our swords, and I felt especially conscious of Katan on my belt. Would he recognize the famous blade? Indeed, Katan was deceptively plain, though if I bore naked steel, Borek would surely recognize the sword for what it was, even if he hadn’t seen it in forty years. He frowned disapprovingly, but nothing more. It was the best I could have hoped for.

  Jorla still stood in the center of the ring of huts, and even after being here a couple of hours, was still the focus of attention. It wasn’t every day that these people saw a dragon, after all.

  When Isaru and I were standing by Jorla, Borek stepped closer.

  “I don’t know what you’re running from, or why Colonia would have anything to do with it. I don’t know what two initiates are doing with a Radaska and...” His eyes went to my blade, then Isaru’s. “It’s not my business anymore. But if you’ve done something wrong...I don’t think you have, because you seem like the good sort...but if you have, know that the Seekers, in time, will find you. If it’s thievery you’ve done, you can bet they’ll follow the old codes for that one.”

  “Our reasons would take too long to explain,” Isaru said, carefully. “And however this looks on the surface…it’s justified. And you might see that in time.”

  “I don’t know how or why, and that’s as cryptic as anything I’ve heard…but I believe you, child. I have developed an instinct for these things, such as only an old man can have. I only ask that you be careful. Young people seem to think they’re invincible, often to their peril.”

  “We will,” Isaru said. “So far as we can.”

  “If you ever to return to the Sanctum,” he said, as we were mounting Jorla, “don’t tell them I’m here. I’d rather them forget me. I am no Seeker. I’m merely a man, now.”

  A crowd of villagers had gathered, uncomprehending of the exchange. A woman clung to Borek’s side, her eyes curious and staring. I realized it must have been his wife.

  “We will say nothing, Borek,” Isaru said. “We will leave you to your happiness, and would never dream of reminding the Sanctum you’re here.”

  Borek’s face relaxed, at last satisfied. “I thank you, child.”

  “I also would like to thank Chief Patei and his family for the food and hospitality,” Isaru said, “Both of which were sorely needed.”

  As Borek translated, Patei’s eyes lit, as if remembering something. He turned and spoke to his wife, who barked an order at her daughter, who hurried back into the house.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “They wish to bring you gifts,” Borek said. “It is traditional of an Avekai farewell.”

  “Borek, we have nothing to give in return,” Isaru said.

  “It’s no matter,” Borek said. “A giving of gifts is sacred and to refuse a gift from the Avekai would be a grave insult.”

  I wanted to protest further, but I didn’t want to risk offending the Avekai.

 
First, a sack was passed up, filled with dried fish, fruit, and vegetables...enough provisions, perhaps, for three days. I wasn’t sure if we would need that food, but it was good to know that we had it, all the same. In his hand, sheathed in thickly woven fabric, was a long, curved dagger, the blade of which Borek withdrew to display. The black, glassy material caught the afternoon light, glinting almost darkly.

  “A rarity even in the halls of Haven,” Borek said, “This dagger is made of obsidian, shaped from lava flows far to the north and bathed seven days in ichor to strengthen it. It won’t break even when clashing with steel, and will keep its edge for centuries. The art has been passed down from generation to generation among the Avekai people. When a boy comes of age, he receives one from his father; but since you have no Avekai father, I shall play the role in giving it to you.”

  Borek bowed solemnly, proffering the blade to Isaru. Isaru took it hesitantly, before drawing it and allowing it to catch the sunlight.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’m deeply humbled by this gift.”

  “And for you, Shanti,” Borek said, “a young woman also receives a gift from her mother when she comes of age. The women of the Avekai are huntresses, and each woman receives a Silverwood shortbow from her mother when she comes of age. The wood is highly elastic and will never break, and with this bow come a quiver of two dozen arrows, their tips fitted with obsidian, ichor-infused just as Isaru’s blade is.”

  Borek’s wife stepped forward with the shortbow, with a string so thin that it seemed as if it would snap the moment it was drawn. All the same, the bow was handed up to me. The craftsmanship was fine, though there were no decorations, save for three intricate runes carved into the bow’s center, the only thing breaking its smooth surface.

  “So long as you don’t abuse it, it will last the rest of your days. The string may appear thin as spider’s silk, but make no mistake — it was spun of woven ichor, and it too will last the rest of your days and fire arrows much faster than a conventional bow.”

  I didn’t know such wonders were possible, so I was at a loss for words. Gia seemed to understand, giving a gracious smile. I put the bow over my right shoulder, and next, Gia handed up the quiver of arrows.

  “Those arrows will pierce the thickest armor, if you draw the bow in full,” Borek said. “Even ichor-infused armor, such as was only made during the time of Hyperborea. Something tells me that where you’re going, you might need it.”

  “Thank you,” I said, looking at Gia. “I don’t know what I can do in return…”

  “Only give thanks and remember your time with us,” Borek said. “And visit again as soon as you get the chance.”

  “I will.”

  I attached the quiver opposite of the sword latched on my belt.

  There was a long quiet moment until at last, Isaru nodded. “Thank you, all. Your gifts and your kindness will not go to waste. That you would treat strangers as such is beyond my abilities to give thanks for.”

  Borek translated, and Patei said something else — a question, judging by the uplift at the end.

  “He asks, will you return?”

  Isaru nodded. “I will return as soon as I can. I have much still to learn. And much to repay.”

  Borek translated, but Patei shook his head.

  “Do not repay, he says.”

  “Very well,” Isaru said, bowing respectfully in the manner of the Elekai of Haven, short and with his right hand on his chest. He took one last moment to take in the village, before addressing Jorla.

  “Fly.”

  And she flew. I held tightly to Isaru’s torso as the ground dropped away frighteningly fast. Before long, the huts were small below us, the river running crystalline through the red-stained forest. It wasn’t long before I lost sight of all the people.

  I touched my bow, as if to make sure it was still there.

  “What kindness,” I said.

  Isaru didn’t respond, but he seemed to be in agreement. Either that, or he was thinking.

  “It won’t be long,” he said. “We’ll be there soon.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  IT WAS ONLY AS THE sun was half-hidden behind the distant horizon that the first of Colonia’s buildings materialized in the distance. The city spread wide, its red and sandstone towers and domes glowing in the last of the evening light, its high wall surrounding it on all sides.

  From high above, I could see the red-stoned docks slipping into the wide brown river. Shallow ships and skiffs sat docked for the evening, and several large canals carried water inland, where they spread like latticework to water fields lining both sides of the water as far as the eye could see both north and south.

  We were still far from the city and in no danger of being seen, especially given the darkness of the eastern sky. We had passed high over several dusty villages on our way, but the Northern Barrens were known for their lack of people — and that was mostly the reason Jorla had taken us this way. If anyone had seen us, we were high enough that they would have assumed we were of the Dragonriders. Now that we were nearing the city, the true test, the true danger, was beginning.

  Our first task was to locate the dragonling, and it was here that we were dependent on Jorla, who would be able to sense her once she was close enough.

  Do you feel anything? I asked.

  Not yet.

  The sun sank, and its final blaze of light colored the western sky in dusty hues of orange. From the sky, the sunset was even more beautiful, and I could only watch, transfixed, as the glorious light transformed into subdued hues of pink and violet, before all that was left was a miasma of what once had been.

  With the night came the cold, and this high up, the wind was sharp and fierce. Isaru and I leaned into Jorla’s back, both for warmth and safety.

  The city was lost to the night, but only for a moment. The shadow of the wall and the forms of the buildings within formed out of the night, much larger than they had been before. Several pale lights shone from windows, hardly discernible in the darkness. Now, my entire vision was filled with the city. We were still far enough that Jorla would not be seen, but the danger would only increase with every flap of her wings.

  I feel something, Jorla said. Though it is not the dragonling. I believe it is the spirits of other dragons, and it is clouding my senses. If I fly any closer, I might as well be blind.

  You can set us down outside, Isaru said. We’ll find the dragonling.

  She angled across the river, putting us on a course to intercept the Red Cathedral. Even now I could see the sharp spire of its bell tower rising in the night, and the sight of it pierced my soul with dread. Beneath that place of worship, I had endured days of loneliness as I awaited my sentence.

  She isn’t here, either, Jorla said. She was mere days ago, when I took Isaru here…

  I could feel her desperation grow. Even her wings beat more quickly, causing us to accelerate.

  Could she be at the fairgrounds? I asked.

  The fairgrounds were disbanded when Isaru tried to rescue her. I passed over a few days ago, when Isaru and I got separated…

  She can’t be far, I said. Could she be in the city, perhaps? We can ask around...surely someone would know.

  I wasn’t expecting this. I can’t help but feel something is wrong.

  Let us down, Isaru said. Get to a safe distance. We will search the city for any rumor of her.

  And if you find her?

  We’ll Call for you, I said. Will you be able to hear us?

  I don’t know, Jorla said. It is...doubtful. But if you can get somewhere I can see...somewhere high, or at least open, I will be able to see you.

  “We can’t risk getting inside the city wearing these clothes,” I said. The Hunters might know us for Elekai if they are familiar with what they wear.” I looked at Isaru’s silver hair. “And your hair doesn’t help, either. They will know it’s a mark of Elekai heritage. We will need new cloaks, but I don’t have any money.”

  “What do y
ou propose we do?”

  I didn’t like it, but I thought about the only person who might be able to help us without ratting us out.

  “Naomi lives in the Northern Subura,” I said. “If she won’t help us, no one will.”

  “It might be better to steal something for our use rather than placing her at risk.”

  “I think stealing is far more risky,” I said. “Besides, I lived for years next to Naomi. She and my mother were best friends. We prepared dinner together, gleaned in the fields together…”

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Isaru said. “But...would they help you, even knowing what you are?”

  That part I didn’t know. Every Colonian was born to hate the Elekai with every ounce of their soul. What would happen when that conflicted with Naomi’s real world experience of me? I had to trust that I would receive help from them. Despite my Elekai heritage, this place still felt like home in a strange, twisted way. Even if its people were misguided, Colonians were still generally good, and I didn’t want to steal from them if it could be helped.

  “Naomi will help us,” I said. “She’s the mother of my best friend, Shara. Shara is stationed somewhere in the legions for now, but Naomi should be home.”

  Before Isaru could respond, I directed my thoughts at Jorla. Head north, along the river, setting us down about a mile away from the end of the city.

  Very well, Jorla said. If you think that is best.

  Jorla seemed doubtful, but what part about this wasn’t doubtful? Our entire plan was held by a series of slender reeds that, all working together, would barely get us out of this alive.

  Do it, I said. It begins now.

  With that confirmation, Jorla banked right, heading upriver.

  * * *

  Jorla set us down in a thicket of stunted trees and scrub, and Isaru and I slid off into the rocky dirt. The Silverwood bow around my left arm felt out of place, but it wasn’t particularly heavy, and the weight of the quiver of arrows on my side was also unfamiliar. I probably wouldn’t be using the bow for anything — after all, I had only practiced archery a few times in the Sanctum, and I wasn’t like the most skilled Champions, who could shoot an arrow every second. I drew my cloak — the very same cloak that would mark me as a Sanctum initiate — tightly around myself to keep out the nighttime chill. Isaru readjusted his cloak to better keep his weapons hidden.