by Sam Farren
“So I ran away. I went to Kastelir, where it was worse. Kondo-Kana, she's the only necromancer I've ever actually spoken to, but I did see one other one, once. Soldiers dragged him out of his house and took him to the capital, and burnt him at the stake as part of a festival.
“That's how people like me are treated, where I come from. We're blamed for everything that's happened since the Necromancy War, and no matter what anyone told me, I didn't believe it would be any different here.”
A pause followed, and Queen Nasrin proved herself to be a reasonable woman.
“Fair enough,” she said, muttering “Heathens,” under her breath.
We went back to eating while Kondo-Kana hummed distantly. I could tell that the Queen was mulling something over, and scooped as much food into my mouth as I could, in an effort to stop any more questions tumbling from my lips.
“There is still a trade agreement in place with Felheim. I suppose I could find you and your companions a place on one of our ships,” Queen Nasrin said, and I could've sworn my skin started glowing brighter. “But there is the condition that you first do something for me, of course.”
“What is it?” I asked. I'd do anything, anything. I was so close now.
Queen Nasrin shrugged, taking a sip of her drink.
“Support Port Mahon. Do what you can for the people there. And should you happen to encounter Gavern—”
She picked her chopsticks up and swished them through the air, saying it all so casually that I didn't instantly grasp her meaning.
“Wait. Wait. You want me to kill Gavern?”
“In a word, yes,” Queen Nasrin said, still talking as though she'd asked me deliver a letter for her. “He has been a nuisance from the very moment I claimed the throne, causing far more problems for me than even Port Mahon. He's sent his assassins and I've sent mine, but no one can get close enough to him without any sort of weapon-check or restraints. Which is where someone with your skill-set comes in.”
I didn't want to believe what I was hearing. I'd been offered a way home, but it was at a price I never thought I'd have to pay.
“Killing Gavern won't fix anything,” I said, desperate to find something else I could do for her. Anything else. “Reis always says that another pirate's going to take his place once we get rid of him, and... and why are you asking me? Kondo-Kana must be a lot better with necromancy than I am.”
“Kana is a pest. She lives in my palace, complains that my perfectly good statues aren't accurate enough, and insists that she isn't going to interfere with history. As though she is some misplaced relic of the past, and not a person who is living and breathing in this very moment. At least she's had the decency not to eat throughout the entirety of my reign,” Queen Nasrin said, scowling at Kondo-Kana, who only smiled at her fondly. “And you're right. Killing Gavern won't instantly bring an end to all of my problems. But Gavern is not merely another pirate; I have the misfortune of being related to him.
“He's my half-brother—we share the same mother. Of late, he has been rallying support in order to usurp me, despite the fact that his father never sat on the throne. It's ridiculous, truly. He claims I do not have the right to rule over Canth because I am no King, and says that my father's death was suspicious. The man was poisoned: Gavern is not telling us anything we don't already know.”
That said, Queen Nasrin returned to the last of her meal, thinking nothing of it. I was furious. Furious at myself for thinking I could make a deal with a Queen – with anyone – and not feel as though I was being used for my powers.
What had I expected? To heal a few wounds and hope that would serve as payment enough?
“I—I have to go back to Kastelir, but I feel as though...”
“As though you're being exploited? Rightly so. But tell me, Rowan, would you have come here offering to help, had I not been able to provide you with the means to return to Asar? Both of us ought to be upfront about what we're doing.”
Asking me to use my powers to kill a man I'd never met was worse than never being offered the chance to return to Asar. It'd take a thought, nothing more than a single surge of intent, and it'd be done; but where would it stop? Through all Katja had put me through, it'd still taken me days to force death into her. I had changed since leaving my village, that much was painfully clear, but I didn't want to imagine myself changing so very much that I could steal life with such ease.
“I won't pressure you, Rowan. Varn will take you back to Mahon, once you're ready. I'll have her stay with you for a week, while you make up your mind,” Queen Nasrin went on to say, placing her plate atop the empty bowls. “It'll be for the good of Canth, but I understand if you don't want to go through with it. I certainly won't think anything less of you, and there may, in time, be other tasks for you to fulfil.”
Other tasks. If they were on par with this one, why should they be any better?
“I think I'd like to leave now, Your Majesty,” I said. “Thank you for your hospitality. I'll... I'll think about it.”
“Of course,” Queen Nasrin said, gathering up the dishes and making all necessary arrangements.
Kondo-Kana walked me through the unkempt gardens, arm in mine, staring up at the stars as she went. Her eyes remained brighter than they were, eerie light standing out against the dark, and I knew she must've once burnt as I now did. No one who knew the first thing about necromancers found it strange, and seeing Kondo-Kana as she was could only mean that it was reversible.
Her lips were parted, forming soundless shapes, as though responding silently to the song of the stars she alone could hear. I wanted so much to know what it had been like in Myros, how it felt to have necromancers close and to be exalted as they were, but in that moment, being by her side was enough. She was as I was, and I was no longer an anomaly, no longer alone on Bosma.
“Do you remember?” I asked. “Do you remember Myros?”
Eyes still fixed on the sky, Kondo-Kana shook her head slowly and said, “I am old, Aejin. So old that Bosma forgets I walk upon its surface still. I have forgotten more than any one mind could ever hold, but it returns to me, in flashes.”
“Did you... have a phoenix? Someone told me that necromancers used to be paired with them, a long, long time ago.”
The stars lost their appeal and Kondo-Kana looked down at me, lips slowly curving into a smile.
“I... I did. I have not thought of him in a long time,” she said, and the comfort rekindling memories gave her resonated through me. “He was a dear friend of mine. But there is something else you wish to ask, isn't there, Aejin?”
I stepped back, freed my arm from hers and held my hands out in front of me. Of course she could tell. Everything in my mind was seeping out of my skin, lighting up the palace grounds.
“What is this? How do I get it to stop?”
“It is light, Aejin. It is nothing to be ashamed of. It is what we are, what Isjin used to bring her creation out of the void,” Kondo-Kana said, briefly closing her eyes. “It will not stop, not until you do. I, too, have burnt as you now do. I am sorry, Aejin. I am sorry for what has happened to you.”
“But you're not—you're not glowing,” I protested. “It's alright here, it's alright in Canth, but what happens once I get back to Asar? People are going to be more on edge than ever.”
I spoke as though I'd already condemned Gavern to death. Taking my hand, Kondo-Kana led me over to a cracked fountain, and I sat on the edge, content to let Varn wait if I meant I'd get answers from the one person able to give them.
“The light will fade, in time. With practise. But it will rise and fall with your powers, Rowan, now that you have been cracked open,” Kondo-Kana said, and my chest ached for the way she knew that only pain and suffering ever caused this. “I do not remember all that happened throughout the war. I have heard so many stories that I no longer know which are my own memories and which aren't. But I can tell you why it started. I can tell you that the Aejin yu ka Aejin wished to be free of an ancient King's s
ervice; free to help the people of Bosma, as Isjin would ask of us.
“And I can tell you that there is no progress through peace; no freedom without bloodshed. All of us did awful things. We raised those we ought never to have gone near – the dragons, the pane – because we did not wish to harm the living. The pane suffer for this now, and I am truly sorry. There are things I have done that I no longer remember, but feel as keenly as a branding iron.
“Did you know that Priests travelled in pairs—an Aejin yu ka Aejin and a warrior? That is not to say that we cannot fight, but there were roles to be played. I had no brothers by blood, but I travelled with a man I loved as dearly as any part of my family. I watched him die in my arms and did not bring him back, because he had asked me to let him move onto the Forest Within, that time. I thought we would be together through the war and beyond all that, but one by one, I saw people fade who I could not save, or would not let themselves be brought back.
“I burnt brighter than you now do. For years I wore what I was on my skin, until the war ended. Until I fled Asar and fell into the sea, drowning and drowning for decades, until there wasn't a single spark left inside of me.
“You must work on drawing that light into you, Rowan, and pray that something more forgiving exhausts you.”
Kondo-Kana's words painted images in my mind, landscapes I'd never seen before, but were suddenly as vivid as anything I'd ever set eyes on. It was my imagination doing it, the warm pull of Kondo-Kana's voice, no matter how awful her words were, but I felt, for a moment, as though I had stepped out of time. As though I had finally put together the pieces I'd always had.
I leant against Kondo-Kana's side, arms wrapped around hers.
“As long as it isn't hopeless,” I murmured, but like so many things that weren't, it continued to feel impossible.
As we sat together, I dared to believe that Kondo-Kana appreciated my presence as much as I did hers. I would've stayed there all night, if not for Varn stomping over and telling me to get a move on.
“Even if you do not do what Nasrin asks of you, please, come back soon,” Kondo-Kana said, squeezing both of my hands.
“I will,” I promised, not certain whether soon to her meant a month or a decade. “Goodbye, Aejin.”
The smile that single word drew out of her was impossible to look away from.
Luckily, Varn grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me over to the carriage.
“No Atalanta?” I asked, patting Musashi on the side of the neck.
“We don't do everything together,” she grumbled, pulling herself up into the carriage. “Can't believe I've gotta spend a sodding week down in Mahon. Thanks a lot, Rowan.”
No doubt Varn would've taken on the same tone had I offered her fistfuls of gold. Sat in the carriage, I looked back at Kondo-Kana as we headed off, neither of us waving at each other, city growing dark around me. Varn, apparently, had no problem with travelling through the night. It was nothing compared to the seas she'd sailed on, and to prove her point, she threw the reins my way, content to let me take charge while she napped in the back.
On the second day, Varn scrambled onto the box-seat after I'd been at the front of carriage for hours, but didn't take the reins from me. She leant in close, squinting, and with a hum, stared out ahead of us.
“So, what's happening in Mahon, other than all this pissing about with Gavern?” she said. “How long you been there, anyway? You actually know anyone other than Kouris?”
“It'll have been two years, soon enough. And I know plenty of people.”
“That ain't long for Mahon. I bet nothing's changed. Tae's still following Reis around like a lovesick puppy, Tizo's going way too easy on people, giving away her gold like she ain't gotta retire one day, Cartha's probably still pissed from sun up to sun down...”
Varn rambled on for a few minutes, and barely able to suppress a smile, I said, “You miss it, don't you?”
"No,” she scoffed.
“Then you're worried about going back,” I offered.
“Worried?” I gripped the reins tighter, certain she was going to push me out of the carriage. “Anyone looks at me wrong and I'll stick my spear so far down their throat that even you won't be able to help them.”
I pretended to cough, poorly disguising a laugh.
“It's alright if you miss it. You grew up there, right? And everyone seems to know you. If it helps, I don't think anyone's really that annoyed at you. Just a little sore. I think they might miss you too, for whatever reason.”
“Sod off, alright?” she said, but her shoulders didn't rise quite so high, after that.
With so many idle hours to fill, I tried doing as Kondo-Kana had said. Being this far away from her had left something gaping inside of me, and it became more and more difficult to believe I'd met her at all. Still, I tried drawing the light inside of myself – however that was supposed to work – and though it yielded no results, knowing it was possible calmed me by measures.
The journey back passed in no time at all, and I was as pleased to see the sea as Port Mahon itself. The thought of killing Gavern weighed heavily upon me, but the mere fact that I could be the one to get Kouris and Atthis and Akela home almost convinced me that I had the courage required to go through with what all of Mahon were desperate to do.
I'd enjoyed Varn's company, despite Varn being Varn, but she didn't look half as pleased to see the town.
“Gods. I'm gonna have to find somewhere to stay,” she said, frowning at every last inn in the distance.
“You could come stay with us. Reis won't mind. You used to be friends, right? You can have my room! I'll share with Kouris.”
“Oh, yeah. We used to be well good friends,” Varn said, curling her lip. “Don't bloody think so.”
The stable-hand made a point of giving Varn a hard time, but eventually took Fiennes and Musashi in, and as we headed into the town, it became clear that Varn was sticking to my side, rather than the other way around. In an instant, all of her worst fears were realised: Tizo was the first person we wandered into.
“Varn!” she called out, delighted, and threw an arm around Varn's shoulders. “Alright, Varn. Was sorry to have missed you the other week. Cheers for that map, by the by. Hope you didn't get in too much trouble with your Queen over it.”
Without blinking, Varn dug an elbow deep in Tizo's side. Tizo had expected it, but hadn't been able to react quickly enough. Winded and wincing, she stumbled back, grinning no less for it.
“That ended up with you? Gods. Thought the Joneses were gonna use it.”
Tizo shrugged, straightening back up.
“Aye, funny that. Ended up buying it from Felheim here,” Tizo said, hands on her hips. “You let me know if you get bored around here, alright, Varn? Reckon you ain't forgotten how to make yourself useful. You're welcome to come scrub my decks any day.”
Varn debated whether it was worth punching Tizo straight into the ground, but Tizo was smart enough not to hang around for long.
“Liking the new look, Felheim,” she said, winking at Varn as she headed off.
All of Varn's frustration bundled itself up in her clenched fists, but all she managed to call out was, “Her name's Rowan, moron!”
While plenty of people were happy to stare or smirk at Varn, no one else was brave enough to approach her, and the inn I took her to was run by a woman too old to care about petty squabbles around the port. She took a room for the week and said, “Let me know once you make up your mind. If I ain't here, I'll be at the tavern.”
“Come find me if you need anything, even if it's just company. You know where I live,” I said, tempted to announce that I was going to kill Gavern there and then, so that Varn's journey wouldn't have been a wasted one.
I made my way through Mahon, glad to be home, but in no rush to get back to the hut. It'd been too long since I'd soaked in the familiar ruckus of the town, and though people kept looking my way, word of what I was had spread far and wide, and the pirates of Port
Mahon seemed proud to count me amongst them. No one bothered me, but a few people nodded, and I walked a little faster, lest they catch me trying not to grin.
I cut through the market, wanting to avoid certain streets, picking up a handful of pistachios on the way. I shoved them into my pocket, picking them out one-by-one and snapping their shells open, taking the long way around to the beach. The streets that didn't boast taverns or shops were almost empty, and when I spotted Atthis, trying to unlock what must've been the front door of his new apartment while holding an armful of shopping, I could've slipped into a side-road without him ever noticing.
I didn't so much as consider it. Now or never, I told myself.
“Atthis!” I called, busying myself with taking the bags of food from his arms.
“Ah. Rowan...” he started, not sure of what to say.
Rocking on the balls of my feet, I tilted my head towards the door and he unlocked it, following me inside.
The apartment was hardly as spacious as the hut, but few places were. It served him well enough: books were piled around the living area and a study had been set up around what ought to have been the dining table, and rooms for him and Akela led off from either side of the living area. I began to wonder how many axes Akela actually owned.
I placed the bags on the narrow kitchen counter and Atthis unpacked in silence, taking his time putting things into his meticulously neat cupboards. Instantly, I became convinced that being there was a terrible idea; that he was angry at me for what had become of Katja; and I was on the verge of backing out of the room, as though I'd only wanted to help him with his things, when he cleared his throat.
Looking at me without saying anything, he gestured towards the worn armchairs, and I took a seat, hands clasped together as I waited for some sort of lecture.
He sat down, hand on his chin, and when he didn't say anything, I spoke up.
“I'm sorry, Atthis. Sorry I avoided you – everyone – for so long. I just... I didn't think you'd want to see me, and the longer I left it, the harder it was,” I said, rubbing the back of my head.
