Tides of Fate

by Sean J Leith

  Saul recovered his plate mail from Gorum’s home. When the time came, he took the lit lantern that still burned and threw it to the draperies. He exited, looking back at the burning house of a traitor, knowing it had to be done.

  As the sun reached midway down the horizon, Saul came to the southern gate and met the others.

  “Stop, fiend!” a meek voice called out.

  Saul stopped and turned to see a small Broken boy, possibly ten years of age, with a longblade held clumsily in both hands. Saul raised his hand to calm the others, and walked closer. “Are you here for revenge?” he asked.

  “You killed my father! I saw you. You killed my people!” he yelled.

  Saul felt no remorse. The people deserved the death they received, whether they wanted it or not. “Your city drained the lives of innocent people. They all knew, and they died for it.” He didn’t fluff his words for the child’s sake. “Do you wish to defend that?”

  “I’ll kill you! For my family!” the boy yelled.

  Saul frowned. “What’s your name, boy?”

  The boy reminded Saul of himself, wanting vengeance for his father. The boy would come with them, die in the wastes, or fight right here.

  “Gallin, Gallin Treydor!”

  “Well, Gallin,” Saul drew his blade, “you can walk away, you can come with us freely, or you can fight.”

  Gallin stood strong. “I will not go with you. I will fight for honor.”

  “Then fight, and the gods may see your valorous act.”

  Gallin charged with blade overhead. Saul dodged his awkward strikes, checking each with a parry. After a few more swings, Saul clashed with the boy’s blade so hard, it flew twenty feet away. The next swing came back to slice the boy’s head clean off.

  “A child runs in fear,” Saul wiped his blade, saluting the boy’s corpse. “A warrior dies with honor.”

  Then Saul turned to see the others staring at him in awe. “We have a long road ahead.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Flower of the Night

  Kayden Ralta

  Kayden led the group of freedom fighters into Deurbin, a large town a few days trek to the south of camp and north of the marshlands. The sun began to set, leaving a sky of orange, yellow, and red spilling across the cobblestone street traversing the town.

  Deurbin was lined with brick buildings and strangely showed little evidence of slums. It was especially known for its Flanbird stew and sweetened butter potatoes. Kayden could pass on the stew. It was so thick and grimy; she’d puke over the thought of the texture alone. She enjoyed potatoes but didn’t commonly get any since she lived in both the desertlands and the northern snowhills, which were terrible areas for growing them.

  Kayden wore a heavy black hood covering most of her face. She forced Lira to wear a hood—she did business in Deurbin before, so they needed to cover her up.

  “Frozelian mead; I haven’t had that in quite awhile. I recall it is quite the delight. I cannot wait!” Vesper proclaimed, swishing his finger in the air and eyes not leaving his book.

  The brick houses were well made, and bold colors of mortar varied from one building to the next from ivory white to smokey grey to midnight black. Intricate, wood-carved signs declaring each vendor’s household swung with the wind, the metal chains hanging them creaking and clattering.

  Kayden kept an exceptional eye on the people passing by and standing around them. Anyone could turn us in, she reminded herself. A couple gave them a look or two, but nothing suspicious. Guards passed without a word, not even an eye. Some gave Magnus a glance, and she knew it was because he was a Half-Devil. They weren’t all bad, she knew. Magnus was solemn and dull-witted, it seemed, but no rapist or murderer. She sensed no nefarity in him. Domika was a different story. Something about her bugged Kayden, not to mention, the drake was on her non-stop over everything.

  Kayden looked at the well-kept gardens around the houses, attempting to forget Domika for a few moments. Flowers of all kinds grew outside in pots and holders: fluttering garlands with their long, bristle-laden violet petals, lilies with their bright day ivory color, and the black nightrain flowers which were closed tightly during the day, only to open at the moonlight. Kayden smiled as she passed those, as they were her favorite flower. They opened when least expected, the jewel of the night grew in almost any climate. Her mother always picked them for her when they lived in the deserts.

  She wondered what to expect from this mission. Deurbin was a seemingly peaceful town but had a touch of corruption within it. Rebels were arrested or kidnapped, and then supposedly tortured for information, which they were sent to investigate. Some were minor offenders of the law, which concerned Kayden most. A punishment should fit the crime, and torture was no way to punish a thief. The noble in control of the marshes had information on the state’s movements against the rebellion. Those drakes. They were oppressive scumbags. She couldn’t stand the thought of them capturing innocent people—let alone torturing them.

  She didn’t know what the rest of the group had in mind, but Kayden swiftly made up hers. The word ‘torture’ alone freaked her out, and ever since she left the desert, she hadn’t truly heard it. It is for your own good, Sheeran said to her, every time she did something wrong, or inappropriate. Callidan will take care of it, and everything will be okay, he said. She hoped to never see either of them again. She could still hear Callidan’s giggle in her mind, and she could see his disgusting face when she closed her eyes. It wasn’t for the best. You lied to me. Now the marks won’t let me forget it. The names of the past. Ones she hoped to forget.

  “Beast!” a man called to them.

  Kayden was shocked back into reality. She stopped abruptly and turned to the voice. “Excuse me?”

  “Not you, runt. Him.” The man pointed at Magnus, saddened by the comment. “What are you doing in this town, you horned monster?” the man snapped again. The eyes of onlookers began to draw toward them.

  Fire burned in her veins, but she didn’t want to create a huge scene. She put her hand on Magnus’s arm, whispering, “Be calm. We don’t need a problem.” She turned back to the angry man. “Hey, bub, who the hell do you think you are? Why don’t you leave him alone before something bad happens to you?” she hissed.

  Oops.

  “Someone like him violated my family, stole our belongings, and hurt my wife!”

  A crowd began to form. Not good. She stormed up to the man, and stared up at him right in the eyes, whispering, “Oh, and that makes everyone of that race bad? He saved my life, and I’m a little girl. Is he going to hurt me, now? Are you here to save me?”

  The man was shocked. He looked to Magnus with buggy eyes and glanced back to Kayden’s intense glare. “N-No, I—”

  “Exactly,” she whispered, “You aren’t going to say another hurtful thing. You are going to walk up to that nice man over there, and you’re going to say sorry. Got it?” She bared her teeth as she finished. Then she backed off, smiled sweetly, and walked back to the group.

  The man looked around awkwardly and stormed off in a huff. The crowd parted and moved on.

  “Phew, that was close. Let’s get moving,” Kayden said, leading the group to continue again.

  The group passed through the market district, and various merchants yelled of their wares of the day. “Fish for sale! Fresh fish off the south lakes!” some yelled. The smell of fish was quite strong, and unappealing to Kayden. She hated fish.

  Magnus relaxed his shoulders and sighed hoarsely. “Thank you for your assistance,” Magnus said. He smiled at her, but she didn’t return it.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Kayden did it for the mission, not him. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  Lira placed a comforting hand on Magnus’ arm, and he simply smiled and nodded. “I am able to handle ridicule. I am older than you think,” Magnus said.

  Kayden never thought about how old Half-Devils were. Humans lived until fifty, maybe seventy years at the oldest, but Devils liv
ed for centuries. She eyed him a moment, figuring he was of twenty-one years, twenty-two, maybe. Out of curiosity, she had to ask. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Mags. How old are you?”

  “Hmm.” He thought to himself, bringing his fist to his chin. “One hundred and twenty-six.” He said it plainly, as if it wasn’t surprising.

  “What?” everyone said in unison.

  “You barely even look twenty!” Domika exclaimed.

  Kayden raised a brow. “I could’ve sworn Half-Devils aged half as fast as Humans.” She moved some hair behind her ears. “I guess I was wrong.” She let out a brief laugh.

  Magnus had no response, just a stale look upon his face. Well well, we finally learned a fact about him. Kayden knew he was very private. It was peculiar, but everyone had their secrets—especially her. “We’re finally here.”

  The tavern sign swung above their heads, battered and old, with two glasses cheering one another with a meat flank in the middle. Rubbed-out letters barely resembled, Frozelian Mead and Meatery.

  Kayden walked in first, swishing the heavy tavern door open with a shove. The rest followed, entering as everyone in the room looked up to stare.

  Two individuals sat behind the counter, one man and one woman each with pale, icy skin with hair seemingly made of ice. Their eyes widened, then narrowed shortly after. “Oh, h—how can we help you lot?” The man cleared his throat and spoke in a gruff voice. Jirah mentioned they were a man, Krag, and his wife, Dran.

  Kayden leaned casually on the bar and spoke the words Jirah told them. “How blackened can you make your flanks? I’m looking for something that’s essentially on fire when I get it.”

  The man’s eyes popped out before he quickly shook his head and returned to a serious demeanor. “Oh, we can make that right away. Are you in need of a room or two?”

  “Two for five total,” Kayden said.

  “May I show you to your rooms?” Dran said. “They’re always ready here.”

  “I’d love that!” Domika seemed very excited to finally sleep in a bed. “But first, let’s order our food.” She grabbed a parchment with the food in a list and showed everyone so they could order as well. “Okay, now let’s check out our rooms.”

  Lira and Magnus also nodded, while Vesper sat at a bar stool. “I’ll stay. I’ll have a glass of your finest mead. For the lady, too, I gather,” Vesper said, giving Kayden a sly eye.

  Kayden wanted a glass but wasn’t fond of gifts. She took the glass, but before she could say she would pay for it, Vesper cut in.

  “Here you are, my good sir,” he said, swiftly tossing him four copper pieces. “Seems as though you are a little tardy on the coin purse, my dear.” Before she could give a response, his wit was quicker than her mouth. “One must deal with the consequences.” He gently ran his mottled fingers through his beard.

  “Well, well, the old man has a tongue on him, it seems. Not just an odd ramble?” Kayden said. “Why buy me a drink, old man? Normally I just yell at you.”

  “You remind me of my daughter. Pardon me if I’m nostalgic,” Vesper said. “She was the truth of our family’s saying, ‘Passion and power are tempered by compassion.’ Although, passion was a light word for her type, I think.”

  Kayden hadn’t heard him mention his family once. She was curious to hear more, especially if his daughter was like her. “Tell me about her.” She sipped carefully as she wasn’t exactly resistant to its effects.

  Vesper’s blue, buggy eyes flickered from the lantern light nearby. He closed them, smiling happily. “She was twenty, hair as beautiful as the sands, like my wife’s, fair skin like mine, her nose, my eyes.” He definitely seemed nostalgic. However, none of these traits were like Kayden. She noticed a subtle shake of a palm when his glass clinked quietly against his teeth as he took another sip.

  Kayden sipped her mead, waiting for more, but he paused for more than a few seconds. “When is she going to sound like me?”

  “She was tough,” he said longingly. “Tough on herself, tough on her family.” Vesper nodded. “She never showed weakness to anyone around her, but I knew it was there. I was her father, after all.” That was the second time he used the word ‘was.’ Kayden became slightly concerned. He leaned in and looked into her eyes. “You may be mistrusting, but you clearly favor some of us.” His voice had a hint of vibrato, yet a soothing, relaxed tone when he spoke to her.

  Kayden wasn’t sure what to make of his words. “Oh? And who do I favor, Lord Intelligent?” she sneered. She knew he was analytical, but he was also presumptuous. Kayden did not like assumptions; especially ones made about her.

  “Sir Magnus, for one. Miss Kaar, of course,” he nodded.

  I don’t favor them, she thought. She just saw them as slightly more trustworthy than the rest. Kayden grimaced at his words, leaving her glass on the bar.

  “You can believe what you wish, Miss Ralta. As long as you do not trust the wrong individuals, you will be swell.”

  Kayden noticed that his name was not among the list. She wondered what happened to his family, and why he was with the Scions of Fire in the first place. Kayden certainly had her reasons. “I know who to trust.” She knew many kinds of people in her time—some good, some bad, and some terrifying.

  “I know you think me peculiar, of that I am very aware. I promise you, there is a method to my madness, as it were.”

  There was one bit of madness she was curious about. He was older than most, and he was not battle-hardened. “Why did you join us?” Kayden asked. “You concentrate so fiercely on certain things in silence, but sometimes you never stop talking, and you mumble to yourself almost constantly. It’s unsettling.” He shot her a sullen eye. “No offense,” she added quickly. Yet even then, she trusted him. He was odd, but Kayden saw no wrong in his words or his actions.

  Vesper chucked as he sipped his golden-colored mead. “None taken, my lady.” He placed his mug down gently. “I have seen families torn apart before me. I live in the crossroads northeast of here, or, I did. I’ve seen fathers taken for war, mothers taken prisoner for trying to steal food, children taken for throwing a pebble at an insufferable soldier.”

  “Many people see families torn apart. They don’t do anything. Why you?” Kayden asked

  “Sir Mirado is correct, I was once the ‘Mighty Vesper’ of the Renalia Circus.” He waved his hands in a majestic manner, before they dropped back to the bar with a slump. “I suppose maybe I joined because I have abilities that some do not, and I thought I would make a difference.” Vesper’s hands shook as he spoke. “I know what it is like to lose someone for a mistake. Miss Kaar lost her brother from a mistake; what mistake, I do not know.” Vesper sighed. “I suppose I owe it to them.”

  “To your family?”

  “Yes, I owe them my life. They saved me from a life I hated. I owe it to other families to make sure they are safe, and it is no longer safe in any town.” His face tightened, and he got slightly teary-eyed. “My wife, Laura, Nala, and I were an act together—The Great Magicians. We each had our own part for the show. My wife used the winds, my daughter used water and ice, and I was fire.

  “Then we would combine into earth, as part of the act, rising us on platforms into the air for the finale. It was a lovely show. The crowd always cheered and came to have our marks, invite us for meals, and be guests of nobles. It was fantastic for a time.”

  Kayden listened carefully to what he said. She felt she knew what was coming. While magic was fantastical and mythical, she was almost glad she was not born with the gift. Misuse had dire consequences. His eyelids vibrated subtly along with his pupils, and the lanternlight danced in them gently.

  “I was always told how incredible I was. I let it go to my head, and my mind expanded to the size of Titan’s Rock. One show, I tried something new without consulting the others. I made a dragon out of fire, and I wanted to breathe flames at my family, but stop it right before it hit them. Oh, what a show it would have made,” his voice grew brittle and tremul
ous. “I moved my hands a little too far.”

  A tear formed at the corner of Kayden’s eye. She quickly wiped it away, fearing someone would see. She felt his pain, a pain she had in her heart as well. She remembered the night he almost killed Lira with that fire snake of his. He seemed like he was in a strange trance, and he nearly made the mistake again.

  “With my power, in my idiocy, I—” he could barely speak, hardly croaking out stuttered words. His head drooped, and tears spilled onto his knees. His cries were quiet but obvious, and his eyes began to gloss over. He tried to speak but couldn’t.

  Kayden looked around and perked her ears to hear any movement from the floor above. No one better see this, she thought. Luckily most had left the bar already after their dinners finished. She pulled Vesper into a lengthy hug, and his cries soon quieted.

  “There, there,” she said awkwardly. Kayden wasn’t good at comforting, but at least she tried. He was an old mug, but now she understood why he concentrated so hard on his practices. She knew everyone had their limitations, as Lira especially did, but Vespers were much higher—or so he implied. He lost much, as she had, by his own hand. Just like me. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. She tried her best to hold her emotions in. It was his time, not hers. Not to mention she didn’t open up after only knowing someone a fortnight or two. Vesper seemed to readily open up, which was strange.

  He returned the embrace as he slowly drew his emotions back in. He breathed deeply as he released the hug, looking to her. “I’m here so that no families are broken up any longer. I’ve seen it—families torn apart by the state. I cannot bear it.” He chuckled slightly. “You really do remind me of my daughter. It is quite comforting. Thank you. You are kinder than you let on.”

  Kayden smirked at the thought, then spoke coolly. “Don’t tell anyone.” She looked back to the window by the back of the bar.

  Clambering footsteps descended the old wooden stairs beside the bar. “Did we miss something?” Domika said. She groomed her long black hair into a ponytail, a subtle Blazik flame flickering along it down her back.