by Jeff Gunzel
“Embrace that darkness,” said Assirra. Startled by her bluntness, he snapped free from his vision of betrayal.
“Focus on it. Use it. Do not forget for one second what you have done, for I am certain Viola is reminded of it each and every day.” She turned back and hopped back up on her horse. “As soon as you accept full responsibility with no more excuses, it will no longer be a distraction that lingers like a dark cloud. No more feeling sorry for yourself. Together we will share this burden and together shall correct it. We are done talking about what might have been. The future is now and it is time to act. Have I made myself clear?”
“Indeed,” he said, feeling lighter somehow. He felt a strange relief in knowing that they had reached the point of no return. He would make up for his betrayal or die in the attempt to make things right. Openly accepting either result brought a feeling of peace.
“Good,” she said, rummaging through her saddlebag. “Now take this.” With a snap of her wrist she tossed him a ball of soft dark-blue fabric. Catching it, he gave it a shake as the hooded cloak unrolled in his hands. “I packed this just in case. I had a feeling you just might make this journey with me.”
“I hope this simple disguise will be enough,” he said, slipping the cloak up over his head.
“May Odao’s light shine on us both. Now let’s go.”
When moving to the edge of the forest, the difference in environment seemed like night and day. The sun was blinding when compared to the scattered light beneath the sheltering trees. Stifling heat smacked them right in the face. Like a barren wasteland, everything before them appeared lifeless and dead. Dry winds shifted the sands, shaping and reshaping the desert right before their eyes. It was hard to believe anything could live in these conditions. Jarlen had grown used to the heat, but Assirra was forced to stop and catch her breath.
“It takes years to fully adapt to the climate,” said Jarlen, starting to make his way down the sandy slope. “I certainly hope we won’t be here that long. Besides, it’s not as bad inside the city walls. They keep the dry winds from pulling away your body’s moisture.” It was a slow walk down given the loose sand and windy conditions. But once Assirra’s horse was walking on packed dirt, they started to move along quite well. Had it been a clear day, they would have been able to see the city quite easily, but the blowing sands had severely limited their vision.
They were nearly right on top of the city when its massive walls came into view. Hidden in the haze of sandy wind, it was as if the mighty structure had materialized like a shadow right before them. Soldiers marched across the high stone walls, each clad in golden chainmail, their breastplates marked with a black raven with a leafless branch in its beak. During most of this stretch, the road had been mostly barren save for a few stragglers here and there. But here near the gate, the crowd had thickened and was moving slowly as guardsmen went about their routine inspections.
“Stay covered and keep your head down,” Assirra rasped, only now realizing they were about to be inspected before being allowed to enter the city. She had been so preoccupied with Jarlen that she hadn’t planned ahead for this. Jarlen shrunk himself down as best as he could, rounding his shoulders and back. Hood draped low, he tried to appear as meek and unassuming as possible. When the group of five before them got sent on, one of the soldiers waved them forward. Head high and shoulders back, Assirra trotted up.
“State your business,” said the sleepy-eyed guard, two others leaning against the open metal gate. Luckily, they seemed disinterested in hearing the answer to a question they had to ask several times per hour. Hopefully they could slide by with any vague answer.
“We have business in the city,” Assirra stated plainly.
“Which is?” he replied, raising an eyebrow while tapping his feather and parchment. In an attempt to appear vague and unmemorable, she may have succeeded in drawing unwanted attention. Her head spun with thoughts of weapons, exotic foods, anything the man could scribble down so he could send them on their way. She cursed herself for not preparing even the simplest of stories before they got this far. Her being a tarrin, which was pretty rare in these parts, was not helping to deflect the man’s growing suspicion either.
“Hey, what’s the matter with you?” asked one of the other guards, pushing off the wall to go get a better look. He stepped right towards Jarlen, who immediately shied away, turning his back to the guard. Everything was falling apart. This was the last thing they needed. They were going to fail their mission before even stepping inside the city. If they had just chosen a better disguise for Jarlen, a better story, a better... “Hey, I’m talking to you!” The guard grabbed Jarlen by the shoulder and spun him around.
Oh no! Assirra thought, her eyes darting left and right while trying to decide on the best escape route. If she could make a break for it, there was little need to worry about Jarlen. This handful of guards would have little chance of holding him. But still, her ignorant failure was unforgivable. The folks behind them were backing away from the growing tension. They wanted no part of whatever was going on here.
With one already trying to grab his arm, a second guard grabbed Jarlen from the other side. With an angry tug, the second guard yanked back the hood of this stranger refusing to speak or cooperate. With one look at Jarlen’s face, he jumped back with a shriek of horror. What he saw appeared inhuman at first glance. Lips black, skin far too pale and sickly, its eyes closed as its face trembled. Teeth bared behind curled-back lips, Jarlen growled and moaned with long strips of saliva hanging from the corners of his mouth. He clawed at his own face with a savage urgency, then reached out blindly as he stumbled about. Avoiding his touch, the guards leaped back, one even drawing his sword.
“He’s sick,” Assirra blurted, taking the cue to go along with his quick thinking. “He’s diseased. We have traveled many miles seeking the aid of Shadowfen’s legendary healers. We fear they may be his only hope.” Jarlen continued to moan and growl, constantly touching his face before reaching out to touch one of them. He kept his eyes closed, mostly just so they wouldn’t see their color. “I’m sorry, but sometimes he is hard to control. It’s the fever, you know. As of now we are unsure if the sickness is contagious.” He stumbled towards another one, fingers glistening with saliva. “If you would just let us pass...”
“Yes, go. Just go!” one of them shouted, nearly sprinting backwards in full retreat as Jarlen reached for him. Anything to not get touched by this diseased man.
“We can’t let them in here,” the third guard protested, also working hard to keep his distance.
“Well then they’re going to stand here while you write it up,” the other said, backing all the way up to the wall. Jarlen hobbled around in circles, fingers raking his face mostly to keep their eyes distracted. If they were to truly get a good look at him, one of them might figure out who he was. Not that long ago he was the most recognizable figure in the city.
“Bah! Forget it then,” he conceded, just wanting this most unpleasant encounter to be over with. Their shift would end soon anyhow and then it would be someone else’s responsibility. It was too late in the day for this. “Just go!” Smiling her thanks, Assirra lightly heeled her mount and trotted past the gate. “And don’t touch anyone or anything!” the guard warned. “I don’t make enough coin for this,” he muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“That was close,” said Assirra, daring to look back once she felt they were far enough away. “That was some quick thinking back there.”
“It wasn’t really that much of a stretch,” he groaned, tugging down on the front of his hood to restore his disguise. “Humans see me as a monster anyway. All I did was alter my expressions and behavior. That hardly made me a completely different person, but it still worked better than it should have. Humans are easy to fool like that. They see what they want to see because their minds are already made up.”
“I have no doubt,” she replied absently, withering against all the suspicious looks b
eing cast their way. Rarely was she in the company of humans at all, let alone this many at once. Nudging her horse through the crowded street, she wasn’t really sure if everyone was actually staring, or if it was just the overstimulation of being around so many people. Probably a little of both, she decided. Being the lone tarrin here in the city was going to make it difficult, if not impossible, to keep a low profile.
“You really haven’t thought this through, have you?” asked Jarlen, practically reading her thoughts.
“Not as well as I should have,” she admitted, squirming in her saddle under all the gawking stares—not hateful or judgmental, but certainly curious, as many were seeing a tarrin for the first time. In truth, she was beginning to feel quite foolish. Had she honestly believed she and Jarlen were going to just march into the city, break Viola free, then leave without anyone noticing?
She couldn’t think straight with all these people watching. “We need to stop somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere! We just need to get off the road and away from all these people,” she replied sharply. Jarlen wasn’t fairing much better with all the unwanted attention. Sure, he had lived in the city for a long time, but that was in isolation for the most part. He had never seen the city like this, alive with varied sounds and smells, packs of people walking shoulder to shoulder.
“Over there,” he pointed to a wooden sign hanging from two thin chains. “The Royal Oak” it read, the letters painted over an engraved mug and plate. This tavern seemed as good as any to go sit down and gather their thoughts. Assirra tied her horse just outside and the two of them went in. The place was nearly empty, save for three older gentlemen playing cards at a booth in the corner, and a scattering of barmaids standing around with not much to do. It was too early in the day for drinking. Things would probably liven up in a few hours.
Relief washed over Assirra as they made their way over to a private booth in an opposite corner. Despite the lingering taint of pipe smoke and stale ale spilled on the floor from the night before, she finally felt like she could breathe. One of the barmaids shuffled up to them, an empty tray tucked under one arm. “What can I get for you fine folks this afternoon?” she asked. If a tarrin seated with a cloaked stranger was anything out of the ordinary, one couldn’t tell by her cheery disposition. After years of dealing with all types of travelers, she had probably seen just about everything, Assirra suspected. That was a good thing. The less they were noticed, the less people would talk.
“Two ales will be all,” Assirra said, frowning into her coin purse as she gave it a shake. Things were going to be more expensive here. It was a bit early for drinking, but neither of them cared about that. They needed to relax and come up with a plan. After flashing a curious, if not slightly suspicious look at Jarlen, the woman shuffled off to fetch their drinks.
“Is this what you imagined when we set out on this mission?” Jarlen asked, shoulders rolled forward while keeping his face shadowed.
“I’m not sure what I imagined,” Assirra admitted, hands fidgeting at her sides. “It’s all so big, so many people. We don’t even know where to start. We need to find out where they’re holding her.”
“Then shouldn’t that be our first priority?” Jarlen asked. “We can’t exactly help her escape if we don’t even know—”
“Here you are,” said the barmaid, sliding two generously full mugs across the table. Sliding to a halt, each spilled a little with the sway of ale.
“Thank you,” said Assirra, handing over two coins. The woman eyed the silver but remained standing there, hand open. With a sigh, Assirra reached into her purse and retrieved two more coins, clinking them on top of the first two. Only then did the woman stride away with a grin. “Drink it slowly,” Assirra said, frowning into her purse once more. “I’m not sure I have enough coin to—” She looked up to see Jarlen with puffed cheeks, a fair amount of foam on his lips while holding a half-empty mug. She glared as if she had caught him stealing. He swallowed, then let out a rasping cough.
“Do you know how long it’s been since I had a cold ale, or any ale for that matter?” he asked innocently, trying to justify his greediness.
“Never mind that,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “We have more pressing matters. We don’t know where Viola is and we have no idea where to begin searching. I’m afraid our priority has changed. We need help. We need to find the humans.”
Jarlen nearly spit a mouthful of ale across the table. “And just how do you propose we do that?” he asked, wiping his mouth. “For one, they could be anywhere by now. We have no idea which direction they may have traveled. And even if we did, how would you convince them to help us?”
Assirra gave him a curious look. “Given how much time you’ve spent among the humans, I would have thought by now you would be more familiar with their predictability. Since they have failed to keep Viola safe, you assume they’ve fled the city and left her to her fate. But human stubbornness is the stuff of legends. I bet they’re still here. In fact, I’m certain of it. We must find them and join our efforts.”
“And what of me?” Jarlen asked. “Let’s assume you are correct and they really are still in the city. How are you going to explain the monster at your side?” He patted his own chest.
“I’ll tell them the truth,” she said, sinking back into her seat as if all the air was seeping from her body. “I’m done lying for you. I know you never asked me to, but it always felt like a necessity to protect my reputation. One white lie became two, two became four. The next thing I knew I was living a double life, all because you held my heart in the palm of your hand. But Odao sees all, I tell you. Easier to turn off the sun than to lie to the great creator. He can see right into my heart. I no longer feel him, and I suspect I know why. I must regain his trust one step at a time.”
She threw back her mug, downing the strong liquor as if it were water, then hammered the empty glass down on the table. “Come, it’s time to go,” she said. “I know of one spot where everyone must visit sooner or later. The market area is probably our best chance of finding them. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can devise a plan.”
“You know they may not accept me,” he stated plainly.
“That is certainly possible,” she replied, scooting out from the booth without any further explanation.
*
The city was alive with its unique sights and sounds. Merchants shouted at any who passed by, pushing their wares of furs and leather goods. Smoky scents wafted from the open doors of butcher shops, their windows strung with links of meat. The combination of shouts, mumbling, and laughter rose up in an endless jumble of sound. The city was alive at every corner. But on some deeper level, the lively scene made Jarlen sick to his stomach.
Despite his time here in the city, he had never seen the humans in their natural habitat until now. Before now, all he had ever been exposed to was the angry mob either calling for his blood or ordering him to kill. These beings craved violence right down to their very core. It was the center of their world; it had to be. But what he was seeing now did not match what he had always known to be true.
Near a street corner, a young girl twitched her fingers, arms stretched up towards her father’s chest. Smiling down at her, he picked her up and bounced her in his arms as they strode away. Couples walked together arm in arm while doing nothing more than enjoying each other’s company. Lost in their private worlds, time might as well have been standing still.
Was it possible they didn’t actually hate the world and everything in it? But that didn’t make any sense. How could such hateful creatures who lived only to watch other beings suffer show such public displays of affection? How could—
The sorrowful groan from an old man nearby startled Jarlen from his thoughts. Filthy, his eyes frosted white, the blind man with one missing leg sat on the side of the street shaking his bowl. What sounded like two or three coins rattled in circles as the wretched creature moaned. He was impossibly thin, m
aking Jarlen wonder how he was even alive. And then he saw it... It was nothing like the little girl climbing into her father’s arms, or the way humans might treat a significant other while strolling down the street. Nearly all the folks who passed by ignored the pathetic creature. A few grumbled insults while one even kicked his leg to move it out of the way. He was human, but not recognized as a human in any way. Inferior, invisible to the masses...weak. He would never have a place among them.
The realization of how this broken race thought enraged Jarlen even further. Their cruelty was mostly aimed at those they deemed inferior, no matter their race. The reality of that hit him like a stone. The real truth had been revealed. So you believe I’m the same as that creature sitting over there? All these years of torment just because you believed you were better than me? One of these days you wretched humans will pay for—
“Over there!” Assirra said, pointing off near a fruit stand. Had Liam not been nearly a full head taller than all those around him, she never would have spotted him. A quick scan of the area revealed Owen and Thatra standing nearby. “I told you they would still be in the city.” She thought for a moment, keeping her eye on them so she wouldn’t lose sight. If they were to suddenly wander off, it could be hours before she found them again.
“Here,” she said, hopping off her mount. “I better go speak with them first. Tend to my horse and then wait in that alley over there.” She pointed across the street. Silently, he took the reins and led the animal away. He was just fine with not having to speak with the humans just yet.
After swiping her hands nervously down a dress that didn’t require any straightening, she made her way towards them. Funny, really. She found herself to be quite nervous after deceiving them somewhat, all in the name of a man she no longer loved. Pull it together. I am the High Cleric. I do not answer to these humans. I do not answer to any—
