by Ryan Wieser
They walked through the streets, lighthearted and merry. Hanson swigged from his flagon before tripping on an errant stone on the path. “Not—where did that come from? Not all of us have secret girlfriends to go to every night.”
Hydo clapped his friend on the back. “I’m blessed. With my brothers and my woman.”
“And your abilities.”
“And your destiny.”
“The greatest Hunter they’ve ever seen, the infamous Hydo Jesuin!”
“Ha! That is how the Council always talk about you.”
Hydo smiled as his friends laughed. Even if they found joy at his expense, it felt like familiar times, before his life had become so greatly complicated. That night, they had spoken of training and Gredoria. They had an upcoming mission Beyond the Grey to see a Kuroi leader’s son that everyone spoke highly of. He couldn’t explain it, but since learning that Octayn had been involved with a Kuroi man for so long, and had borne his children only to murder him, Hydo felt an anger whenever the tribe was mentioned. As though he needed to feel hatred towards them in order to not feel the shame of having let them down so greatly. He didn’t understand it and he couldn’t speak to anyone about it. He just knew he was not looking forward to the trip.
“At least we aren’t expected to marry ...Relationships are hard.” Urdo’s voice pulled Hydo back to the moment and he realized the conversation had carried on without him.
Hanson scoffed. “Relationships? I can’t even get a woman to speak to me!”
Urdo had never struggled to find company, but Hanson always had. He was too shy, too nervous, and the drink only forced him to over-correct—his humor suddenly confusing and abrasive, his questions too probing.
They rounded a corner and found the stairwell to an underground tavern that they had frequented many times before. “Alright, gentlemen, this is where I leave you.”
“Stay!”
“Just for one more drink?”
Hydo laughed, embracing each brother quickly. “Speak tomorrow, brothers.”
* * * *
Octayn rolled over in their bed, nudging him gruffly. “Hydo, what is that?”
He ran a hand over his face. He could hear the buzzing of his pod, alerting him to company. It took him a moment to fully wake up. He felt as though he had only just gotten to sleep, having left Urdo and Hanson at the tavern before returning home. He felt as though he knew what had happened. Many nights before this one, when all three had drunk too much, they would sleep at his city home instead of returning to the Blade.
He rolled out of bed reluctantly. “I’ll deal with it.”
He walked down the pristine hall, reaching the doorway for the pod. He raised a hand over the scanner pad and a screen lit up, showing a grainy picture of his brethren standing on his rooftop, as he suspected. He rested his hand against the pad, granting Hanson and Urdo entry. He ran a hand through his messy hair and prepared glasses of water for his brothers. They could sleep the drink off and leave early for the Blade.
As the doors opened, Hydo knew instantly that things were not as they usually were. Urdo’s mouth was bleeding and Hanson’s eyes were wide, bruises already forming. Whatever had happened had had a sobering effect on both of them, as they approached Hydo with obvious fear.
“What’s happened?”
Urdo leaned against the wall and slid down it, resting on his haunches.
“Tell me.”
Hanson’s eyes darted about the room, alert and paranoid. “It was an accident.”
“What was?”
Urdo stared at the white floor. “We’re going to be kicked out of the Blade. Executed.”
“Executed? What are you talking about?”
“Your brothers killed someone.”
They all turned at Octayn’s voice. She stood in the corridor, wearing her long white robe.
Hydo shook his head, “Do not say such things.”
But Hanson and Urdo said nothing in their defense. Hydo looked them over but neither would meet his gaze. “Tell me this is not true.”
“Urdo killed no one.” Hanson kept his eyes on the ground.
Hydo stepped back involuntarily, the words stunning him. He rested his hand against a chair, steadying himself. Hanson meant he had killed someone. An Azguli? He was a Hunter—killing outside of sanctioned missions was a trespass punished by execution. But they had said it was an accident. They must have been attacked; they must have acted in self-defense. Many of the Aren zealots knew Urdo worked keenly to bring about the end of their group—perhaps they had done something.
Octayn glided into the room, her shoulders back tight, a look of impatience crossing her face. “Where is the body? Or is it bodies?”
Hydo could hardly believe her voice was so calm and smooth. He knew the Bakora were a different kind, with a culture that tolerated violence much more so than the Daharians’ did, but still ...He could not help but think of how she had killed and how all of this was much more familiar to her than to the rest of them.
“On the roof.”
At Urdo’s words, Hydo lunged forward. “You brought a body to my home?”
Hanson stepped between the two of them. “We didn’t know what else to do.”
Hydo raised his hand, warning his friend to stay back. “Tell me exactly what happened.” His deep voice shook as the nausea seized him.
“I was speaking to a woman, she was married, a man grabbed me, and that’s when Urdo got involved. The fight just broke out.”
Octayn sighed heavily. “Just take me to the body.”
Hydo turned his gaze to her. “What? Why?”
“Why do you think they brought it here?”
“I…” but Hydo’s voice trailed off as he looked over the guilty faces of his friends. They had brought the body here because they needed help getting rid of it. Because they had always turned to him for guidance, mocking him one minute for his destiny to be their next leader, and relying on him the next for help. They had implicated him in their trespass.
“You have both risked my rise to Lord Protector by bringing me into this.”
They said nothing. They already knew as much. Urdo used the wall to get to his feet and stepped back into the pod. Octayn was quick on his heel, followed by Hanson. Hydo waited, hesitant, imagining the future he had worked so hard for disappearing before him. Octayn stared at him expectantly. “Let’s go.”
Slowly, he stepped through the doors and joined them.
They traveled up through the floors of his house in complete silence. When the doors finally opened, they were embraced by the warm Azguli winds. The crimson sky was dark, but not dark enough to conceal their presence on the rooftop should a Soar-Craft fly close overhead.
They moved towards Hanson’s vessel. Hydo slowed his pace as they approached the old machine he had picked up on a bargain several years back. He came to a full stop several feet behind Octayn and the others, not wanting to get any closer than he had to. Hanson and Urdo climbed the side of the Soar-Craft and, with a forceful heave, lifted the body of a man over the doors. They lowered him to the ground. His head knocked the rooftop with a thud. Hydo’s stomach turned. He had killed before. But it had been ordered, it had been as a Hunter, not as a man. He realized then that he had started to separate the two, as if Hunting were little more than an occupation, despite having been raised to believe it was his whole identity.
Octayn stood over the body. “This is it?”
Urdo nodded. “This is him.”
The man looked only a few years older than Hanson or Urdo. He had a strong jaw and bloodied fists. It helped Hydo to know that he had at least been capable of putting up a bit of a fight. He intentionally kept his gaze on the fists, ignoring the man’s trunk, where he knew Hanson would have inflicted the fatal wound.
Octayn looked over the man with her dispassionate stare. He
knew he needed to help, he needed to deal with this burden so that she didn’t have to. He took a small step forward.
“We—we should move it somewhere it won’t be seen.”
Octayn ignored him as she ignited her hand, shooting flames, like arrows, at the body. Hanson and Urdo jumped back as the man’s clothing caught fire. Octayn forced the flames to grow at a supernatural rate, hissing and whipping about, resisting the wind with anger as they burned faster and faster. Soon there was nothing but the smell of burning bone. Urdo turned away, raising his arm to protect his face from the heat. Hanson covered his mouth with the back of his hand. Octayn, unblinking, kept her focus, destroying all evidence of their crime.
Hydo felt lightheaded. What his brothers had done and what Octayn now did for them, what she had done in the past—he condoned it and it called into question the kind of Lord Protector he had always envisioned himself becoming. He fell to the ground, the smoke from the body trailing high from his home, a beacon of disgrace. Hanson turned to him, but remained still. His brothers had betrayed him with their carelessness. They had endangered his life and his future.
Octayn finally finished, leaving nothing but a pile of ash on the ground. Such power was mighty—mightier than Hydo’s, certainly—but it was also terrifying. He stared at the ashes, knowing that he had come to both love and fear her. He supposed he didn’t fear her, he feared how much he loved her, knowing he would do anything for her, however treacherous.
She turned to him with her cold green eyes and crossed the rooftop quickly, her robe trailing behind her, a vision in white against the crimson sky. She reached her hand out to him, a trail of blue fire running over her fingers. She looked so powerful as he sat weeping over this terrible accident.
She kept her hand out, palm up, waiting for him to take hold. “It won’t always feel this way.”
He thought, perhaps, that it should always feel this way—it wasn’t meant to be easy because it wasn’t right. He thought of standing on his own, refusing her hand, and with it, her way of life, and walking away from them—his love and his brothers. He imagined never seeing her again. He looked into her beautiful face and could instantly hear her laugh, could feel her lips on his, could picture her first thing in the morning when she woke up. He imagined never holding her again.
He looked past her and saw his brothers. They had come to him in their greatest hour of need. Octayn had provided for them, taking the lead in a time when he could not lead. He knew that power and strength were two very different things—he had strength, he was naturally gifted, but power required loyalty and a long, forceful reach. Power required control. Control of the Blade, control over the Hunters ...over Octayn? She could do as she wished as long as it was for their shared prosperity.
He took her hand. If he walked away he would lose them all, and with them, his future. If he stayed, he could learn to lead, and to rule, as she did. He rose to his feet. Octayn nodded to him approvingly. “They owe you their allegiance now.”
Her words burned him, despite how closely they mirrored his thoughts. “I believe they would have given it to me before this. I had faith in them.”
She kissed him deeply, her lips firm against him, forcefully pulling him against her with hunger. Just as abruptly, she stepped away from him, breaking their kiss without warning. “Who needs faith when you have certainty?”
* * * *
“Speak with me, Hydo. Tell me what troubles you.” Hydo looked down at Gredoria’s outstretched hand and knew that his mentor was not asking Hydo to join him—he was demanding it.
Hydo took a seat opposite him. He had thought for some time that Gredoria was ailing, his voice had become breathy and slow, his movements somehow more delicate and less certain. It would have been disrespectful to ask after the man’s health, when the Blade knew that he was Gredoria’s successor.
They sat in Gredoria’s vast chambers, silently staring at one another. He had sent for Hydo early that morning and as luck would have it, Hydo had just snuck into his own chambers minutes before the messenger arrived. He had been uneasy in his own home since the incident. The body had changed everything for them. Octayn had shown her leadership in the face of death and trespass and Hydo had made a decision for his life. He had chosen her. He had chosen her plan, to become a ruler as she was, to learn to lead as she could.
His friends fared less well. Hanson had tried several times to tell him the story but had been incapable. Urdo had finally told him what he could and it was mostly what Hydo had already imagined. Hanson had been drinking, as they all had. They had been rowdy, but not dangerous. A woman had spoken with him, he had bought her a drink, several men had appeared, and when one claimed she was spoken for, a fight broke out. That was all Urdo could tell and it was all Hydo could tolerate knowing.
He sat opposite Gredoria, trying to look at ease, completely incapable of recalling how he used to sit, speak, or even think before. He remembered always feeling calm in his mentor’s presence. But everything had changed. Gredoria sat very upright, his shoulders tight back, like Octayn. His hands rested on his knees. While he stared at Hydo, he did not pry at his mentee’s mind. After a long silence, he sighed heavily.
“Hydo, let’s not pretend things are as they once were. We both know you are set on a path to take my place here. Up until very recently, nothing seemed more important to you. I won’t force your thoughts from you, but if you can no longer disclose them to me, you make it very difficult for me to trust you with the Blade of Light.”
Hydo shifted in his seat. He felt uncomfortable with his mentor’s candor. Gredoria always spoke in soft, lofty terms. It was more than simple discomfort though; he felt angry. Gredoria had been lying to him for all these years, and now he suggested Hydo couldn’t be trusted. He forced himself to look into the eyes of his mentor, his Lord and Protector. He leaned forward, his dark hair falling about his face.
“Did you know all Fire-Wielders are of Bakora lineage?”
Gredoria sat back in his seat and breathed heavily. “This is what’s bothered you? You figured it out. Well, of course I knew.”
“Wh—what?”
Up until that very moment, Hydo had thought there was a small chance Octayn had been wrong. Perhaps Gredoria hadn’t known and hadn’t intentionally deceived Hydo all his life. Hydo felt his heart racing as he stared at Gredoria. He could picture every conversation they’d had, he could feel the edge of his mentor’s sword in the Hollow, he could close his eyes and instantly be writhing in pain, refusing to give-in, refusing to quit, surviving the rites required to be a Hunter.
“I’ve always known. It’s my job to know. Keeping it quiet was simply part of the deal.”
Hydo stood and then quickly sat back down. His mother’s face flashed before him. “What deal?”
“Bakora are not permitted to live in Daharia. Your parents were Bakora, though, and they had angered the Bakoran Emperor Oredan. I granted them clemency, and in turn, they let me raise you as a Hunter. Not just any Hunter, Hydo. My Hunter. Having taught you our ways, knowing you had the gift of Fire, we knew you’d be an unstoppable Lord Protector.”
Hydo felt his stomach turning. His throat burned. He didn’t understand. His parents had given him up so they could escape Emperor Oredan and live in Daharia? Had they wished to keep him? If they had been able to raise him, would that fateful accident that claimed their lives somehow have been avoided?
“You need to remember your true path, moving forward, not living in the past.”
Hydo quickly shut off access to his mind. “How could you have kept this from me? After my parents died there were so many times you could have told me. I wouldn’t have left you.”
“You were on a path to glory and success. What good would telling you have done?”
“To avoid me finding out from someone else!” Hydo was on his feet. He had never raised his voice at Gredoria.
G
redoria narrowed his eyes at him. “How did you find out? Daharians know next to nothing about Bakora—thanks to us and our ability to keep them out.”
Hydo glared back at his mentor. Octayn had been right—she had been right about everything. He had never been more thankful that she had found him. She had tried to tell him what kind of man Gredoria was and he hadn’t listened. He could feel the flames running down his arms, his heart was racing, tears welling in the corner of his eyes as he stared at his mentor.
The fire extend down his hands, licking his fingertips. “You betrayed me.”
Gredoria did not fear the flames. He had helped Hydo learn to calm them through his adolescent years. It still amazed Hydo that in this moment, his mentor did not fear him at all. Gredoria was righteous.
“I did what was best for you. I pushed you as I did, and kept from you what I kept, to guarantee your path to greatness. I chose you as my successor, Hydo.”
He had lied to him for so many years. He had lied to everyone, knowingly breaking their own laws to allow Bakora into Azgul, to ensure a child of Bakora lineage would become the next Lord and Protector of Daharia.
“You have to understand, the Bakora are a ruthless type. Your parents’ death was no accident. Who better to defend the Blade from Bakoran than a Hunter with the Bakora Fire?”
His flames extinguished as he honed in on Gredoria’s voice. “What did you just say?”
“I said who better than—”
“No! About my parents’ death.”
Gredoria looked at him with wide eyes, his hands resting at his side. “I wanted to keep all of this from you. Truly. I never wished for you to know.”
“Tell me now or so help me—”
Gredoria took several deep breaths before speaking again. “Bakoran is run by the Emperor Ozea Oredan. He is a ruthless, merciless, man…”
